


A Voice Cries Out

by aMUSEment345



Series: Soundings [6]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Drama, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-06-27 05:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 87,927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aMUSEment345/pseuds/aMUSEment345
Summary: The BAU is summoned to a case that hits close to home for Reid. Or does it? Set in the 'Soundings' universe.





	1. Chapter 1

**The BAU is summoned to a case that hits close to home for Reid. Or does it? Set in the 'Soundings' universe.**

* * *

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 1**

"Bye guys! See you tonight!" _I hope._

JJ waved to her children as Karen shooed them into the house. Henry would be catching the bus to school, but Rosie and Casey would be spending the day with their long time sitter.

Although she'd been back to work full time for well over a year, JJ still had the occasional yearning to spend long stretches of days with her offspring. And then she would remember how she'd felt when she'd had those days…..the exhaustion, the chaos, the hunger for adult conversation.

_The grass is always greener, I guess._

She hoped their luck would hold. It didn't happen all the time, but this year the nation's serial killers seemed to be taking the holidays off. It was their team's turn to stand down, so she and Spence had been able to use their vacation time starting before Christmas and going right through New Year's Day. The quietness of the season seemed to be keeping them in town for an unusually long period of time. Both parents were enjoying the evenings at home with their children.

She pulled into the lot just ahead of David Rossi, who deposited his Lexus SUV into the spot next to hers.

"And how is the mother of my favorite goddaughter this fine morning?"

"Fine, thanks. As is Rosie." She offered it before he had a chance to ask.

"And my favorite big brother to my favorite goddaughter?" Rossi had become careful to ask after Henry as well.

"He's great. He's all excited because Spence is bringing him to the Air and Space Museum again this weekend. They're going to the IMAX and Henry _loves_ the IMAX."

Rossi chuckled. "Something tells me his father loves it as well."

JJ smiled. "He does. And even if he didn't, he'd love it because Henry does."

They were nearing the entrance to the building, and pulled out their badges for swiping.

"He's a good man, young JJ. A good dad. I didn't get to be one, but I had one. And I recognize a good one when I see him."

JJ squeezed Rossi's arm in thanks. "He is. To both of the kids. They have his heart, and he has theirs."

"As it should be my dear, as it should be."

* * *

Within the hour, they'd been summoned to the round table room, indicating to all of the BAU members that their luck had run out. They had a case.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are going to Sin City. No, not Sin-to-Win City." Garcia aimed the latter comment at Emily Prentiss. "I was referring to the Sin City from which our resident genius arose. We're going to Las Vegas."

Reid hadn't been back to Vegas since the death of his mother. Without a family reason to visit, the city held no real draw for him. There were a few pleasant childhood memories, but they were far outweighed by difficult ones. For Reid, the word 'home' referred only to the one he shared with JJ and their children.

Garcia continued with her case presentation. "It seems someone has become fond of the tax man in Vegas. Or, better said, someone has developed a _taste_ for the tax man."

"Vegas and taxes seem like a match made in heaven…or hell," observed a wry David Rossi. "Between the winners trying to hide their winnings, and the losers trying to write them off, there's plenty of work... but most of it is illegal."

"Well, what's happening in Vegas now is even more illegal. And definitely not made in heaven." Garcia hit a button on the remote, and a gruesome image came up on the screen. She studiously kept her back to it.

"You are looking at….tell me if it's not up there, because I am definitely not looking at it again….you're looking at an image of what remains of Stephen Davidovitch, who was a fellow employee of the federal government. He worked out of the Las Vegas Bureau of the IRS until his retirement about six months ago. His daughter reported him missing two weeks ago, so there's a gap in time that's unaccounted for until yesterday, when his remains were found in the desert north of the city. _Most_ of his remains. Everything except his heart and his tongue. And…" She couldn't suppress a shiver, "…his tongue…or the stump of it….had bite marks."

"There are any number of carnivores in the desert. It wouldn't take long for the animals to find him." Reid was very familiar with the area surrounding Vegas.

"Ah, my sweet genius. I only wish. The animal that found him was two-legged. They were human bite marks."

"Human?" Emily wondered, "Could he have bit it himself? Maybe 'in extremis'?"

Hotch was already familiar with the sketchy details of the case. "The bite arc doesn't match the victim's teeth."

"Is that how he was identified, Pen?" asked JJ. "Dental records?"

"Exactly. They'll attempt a DNA match with the daughter to confirm."

Garcia held the remote in her hand. "There's something else. More ickiness. His heart..."

"Oh, no...don't tell me the unsub bit that out too." Morgan voiced what none of them wanted to hear. Garcia clicked the remote and the photo on the screen changed.

"Well, technically, he didn't bite it _out_... It seemed to have been cut out with some kind of instrument. Serrated, so possibly a knife. But there was a bit of…..tissue…left at the scene. Which looked like it had been... masticated."

She was proud of her use of professional language, but Morgan was less impressed.

"Masticated?" Teasing her.

"Alright. It was chewed. It seems like the unsub was eating the victim's heart as well."

Reid squinted at the photo on the smartboard. "It does look like it was chewed. But it doesn't look regurgitated. It doesn't look discolored or eaten away, as it would be with stomach acid."

"So you think the unsub just chewed it and spit it out without swallowing?" Morgan wanted clarification.

Emily tried to shiver the image away. "Ugh! But not as 'ugh' as if he'd actually swallowed it."

Now Garcia and JJ joined her in shivering their disgust.

The idea of cannibalism prompted Reid to comment. "Hey, do you remember that case where the unsub made a stew..."

Prompting simultaneous cries of "Spence!" "Reid!" "Kid!" And a heavy-browed stare from Hotch.

"Sorry."

As distasteful as it was, the implications were clear, and they had to consider what the unsub's methods might mean.

"Are we sure we have just the one victim?"

Cannibalism suggested the kind of ritualism characteristic of serial killers. But JJ wanted to know if there was more than just suggestion pulling the BAU into the case.

Hotch fielded that one. "Yes…and no. A second employee of the IRS office failed to report to work about two months ago. There wasn't anything that made it look criminal until they found our victim's remains. And…and they're not sure this is related at all…. there was also a tax attorney who apparently disappeared about three months ago."

"Apparently? Don't tell me, let me guess, " ventured Rossi. "No one missed the attorney at all." Gaining a chuckle from several of the others.

"Garcia, when was Davidovitch last seen?" Reid wanted to create a timeline.

Her response told him he would be stymied. "The last we've been able to put together was his retirement dinner. The poor guy was a loner in a city of loners. He was divorced, and not close to his children. His daughter only realized something was wrong when she didn't hear from him for the holidays."

"No one saw this guy for the past six months? No one talked to him?" Morgan didn't believe it.

Hotch responded. "No one who's been identified so far. As you can see, we're being pulled into the case early, with only the single definite victim. LVPD, Nevada State Police, and our Las Vegas office are still actively developing leads."

"Or so we hope," added the sardonic Rossi.

"I suppose they've already tried to tie the IRS guys and the tax attorney together?" Prentiss followed the natural train of thought.

"They have. And there are seventeen cases in common between the attorney in question and the two IRS workers," advised Hotch. "So, Garcia…"

"Right. I'll get busy whittling it down. Happy flying!" Squeezing Morgan's shoulder as she passed by him, Garcia clicked her way out of the conference room.

Hotch acknowledged the urgency of a case where there were missings who might still be rescued, however unlikely that scenario.

"Wheels up in thirty."

* * *

JJ spent ten of her thirty minutes connecting with Karen and then with her parents. Since their move to the DC area following the loss of their home to an arson fire, the elder Jareaus had become the preferred babysitters whenever Reid and JJ were away on a case.

"Don't you worry about a thing, Honey. Your father and I are happy to take care of them. It keeps us young, you know."

JJ snorted. "More like it wears you out. But you know how grateful Spence and I are to know they're with you. I think it helps them to think it's sort of normal, you know?"

"It's _our_ normal, sweetheart. And I think it's good for Henry."

They'd all been concerned about the little boy, who'd suffered so many losses, and near losses, in his young life. He'd responded very well to having his grandparents living in town. For Henry, the time spent with Sandy and Charles Jareau was simply a visit with his grandparents, similar to the experience of so many of his friends. When he was with them, he could forget that his parents were away. Or so they all hoped.

Reid filed onto the plane shortly after JJ, having driven over with Morgan. The two men had been conversing with the Vegas FBI office and waved the others to go on ahead.

"Did you reach them?" Reid asked as he slipped into the seat next to his wife.

"Yes. Karen will take them after school today as usual, as Dad is out on the golf course."

They both smiled at that. Charles Jareau had been far too busy maintaining his farm when he'd lived in Pennsylvania. Now, sharing a townhouse condo with his wife, his time was rapidly becoming consumed with new hobbies.

"I'll bet he's mad that he only discovered golf in retirement."

The game held no interest for Reid, but Rossi had shared his personal experience with the sport.

JJ chuckled. "Yeah, Mom says she's a 'golf widow' now. But I think she's really becoming a widow to some of his volunteer activities."

Charles had also become a mentor to several teens and young men.

Reid laughed. "There's no way. You know she won't let him do that on his own. She'll be there, right alongside him, cooking up a storm to fatten them up."

He'd been on ongoing target for his mother-in-law's culinary ministrations.

"You're right. Except I don't think she's done with you yet." JJ patted her husband's still-too-thin middle.

She changed the subject. "Spence, we haven't been back to Vegas since your Mom died. Will it be hard for you?"

He took a moment before shaking his head. "I have a new home now. And it's been a long time since I've had a home in Vegas. Bennington was certainly never 'home' to me."

JJ squeezed her husband's hand before Hotch got the case discussion restarted. "Still….talk to me if you need to, okay?"

He smiled his thanks at the woman who always seemed to know him better than he knew himself.

"Okay."

* * *

There was little new information to be had. Las Vegas PD, Nevada State Police and the FBI were all actively conducting interviews and searching for the missing IRS agent and tax attorney. Having distributed assignments for ground work to be done after they landed, Hotch set them all to reviewing various aspects of the case, and the players, on-line. Reid was absorbed in a study of the taxation of Vegas high rollers when Hotch approached him individually.

"Reid."

The younger man looked up at his unit chief.

"Yes?"

Hotch looked….hesitant. It was so unlike the usually assured FBI man that it unsettled Reid.

"I've….had a phone call. There's a new complication to the case."

"Okay…what is it?" Reid enjoyed these challenges. They got his intellectual juices flowing. Especially when the challenge was something Hotch assigned to him, in particular.

"There's been another person reported missing. Another tax attorney."

"Okay. So, that pretty much confirms that taxes are somehow the connection in all of this. Although exactly how is unclear. For instance, unless the unsub used different attorneys in different tax years, the relationship between the two missing tax attorneys may or may not be coincidental. Unless there's another aspect to this that we're…."

"Reid."

"…missing. But that would mean we need to connect the IRS agents and the tax attorneys in some other way, and the odds of that are…"

"Reid." More forceful now. The way he sounded when he wanted Reid to cease and desist his ramblings. Reid recognized it.

"Sorry. What is it?"

"Reid….the newly missing tax attorney…..it's William Reid. It's your father."


	2. Chapter 2

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 2**

Curious about why Hotch would need to speak with her husband alone, JJ watched the interaction from the other end of the plane. Hotch was facing her, his features their usual mask of professionality. But even looking only at the back of him, she could tell that Reid was reacting to something. A stiffening of his spine, the turning away of his head. Hotch seemed to say something more to him, and Reid nodded. Whereupon the unit chief signaled JJ to come up the aisle and join them.

"What is it?" Anxiety was already present in her voice as she looked at her husband, who was staring into the ether.

"There's been another tax attorney reported missing. William Reid."

JJ's eyes flew wide, and then sought Spence's. He felt her gaze on him and turned to look at her as she took the seat beside him.

"Spence?"

He just shook his head, and remarked in a low, soft voice, "He disappeared once before. Maybe he's just disappeared again."

JJ looked back to Hotch, passing an unstated question. _Could he be right? Could it simply be a coincidence?_

Hotch caught the look and responded aloud. "There's no other indication that anything untoward has happened to him. But his office reports he's never missed a day of work, and his secretary keeps his travel calendar. It was so different from his usual that the office notified the police within hours of his failing to show to work. They'd heard about the other cases from the media."

Reid cleared his throat. "Did the police perform a welfare check?"

Hotch nodded. "Yes. And there was nothing out of place. At least, nothing obvious. No signs of a struggle."

"Was his car there?" JJ joined them in beginning to work this aspect of the case.

"It wasn't…which may be a good sign." Hotch's movement toward the aisle signaled that he wanted to end the conversation. He explained. "I know you may need some time to absorb this. And neither of you has to work this case. It would be understandable if you wanted to step back."

He seemed to be waiting for their response. The two young profilers exchanged a look and a squeeze of hands.

Reid responded for both of them. "We're in. I need to be a part of this Hotch. After everything…I owe him. From the last case that involved him."

Both Hotch and JJ knew Reid was referring to the cold case that had haunted his dreams back before Henry was born. The case that had Reid erroneously accusing his father of the murder of a young child. The case that, however briefly, had turned Diana and William Reid back into a unified front, Reid's mother coming to the defense of his father. That Diana had abstained from her antipsychotic medication for the sake of her son's understanding his father's innocence had greatly impacted Reid.

He'd apologized, but he'd not forgiven. His memories of the hardships he'd suffered with his mother were simply too vivid for the adult Spencer Reid to forget them. It wasn't until he'd assumed the responsibility of fatherhood himself, and known the uncertainty and the struggle to do the right thing, that Spencer had even begun to entertain the thought of forgiving his father.

And then, with the strong encouragement of JJ, he'd done it. Alone, as a solitary exercise, he'd rid himself of the venom and resentment he'd felt for so many years. He'd forgiven his father for displaying weakness when called upon for strength. For not being able to confront his wife's illness, nor raise his son alone. He'd forgiven William Reid for being who he was.

But he'd never communicated any of this to William. Reid had let go of the poison inside of him for his own sake, and that of his new family. But he still hadn't wanted to let William back into his personal life.

Now the man had been inserted right into the middle of his son's _professional_ life. There was, it seemed, no escaping William Reid.

* * *

Only Rossi and Morgan had met Reid's father during that prior Las Vegas trip. Morgan's impression of the man had been flavored by his righteous anger at the upset of his 'little brother'. Rossi remembered him as a small man, in every sense of the word.

All of them were appropriately shocked at the idea of a family member having fallen victim to an unsub, no matter how venerated…or unvenerated….that family member was. Linked in via the computer, Garcia gushed her sympathy.

"Oh, my sweet, gentle, baby genius, I'm so sorry! I wish I could hug you right through this screen!"

"Thanks, Garcia."

Reid and JJ sat on the long seat across from the others. Emily reached over and patted her good friend's leg. She had a love/hate relationship with her own mother. But, she knew that, although she may have been ignored for her mother's ambassadorial duties, she'd never been abandoned. She could only imagine the emotional turmoil Reid must be experiencing now, possibly having lost someone who had so pointedly tried to lose him.

Hotch felt a word of caution was in order. "He's only been reported missing, so far. We don't know that he's been taken. All of the agencies involved are operating out of an abundance of caution."

"When was he last seen? Do we know?" Taking his cue from Reid, Morgan stepped back emotionally and started analyzing the facts.

Hotch had been briefed from the ground. "Last week was New Year's, so it was an abbreviated work week. He apparently took a long weekend, so was off from Tuesday evening."

"And today's Monday. So it could be as long as five days, if he was taken right after work," posited Emily. "Or he could have been taken at any point along the way."

"Or he could not have been taken at all," reminded Rossi.

"Garcia?" Hotch had already assigned her several tasks.

"Sir! No credit card activity from December 31-New Year's Eve-and that one was for a florist." She seemed to be done, but then they heard a "hmmm" on the other end of the line.

"What is it, Baby Girl?"

"Oh….just that he ordered flowers on December 23 and then again on the 31st."

The romantic implications were obvious, until JJ spoke. "I think the December 23 order was probably the one he sent to us. We got an arrangement on Christmas Eve."

As had happened the prior year as well. It had been the receipt of one of those arrangements that had sent Reid into his crisis of conscience regarding his father, and his ultimate forgiveness of the man.

The others were surprised at JJ's statement.

"He sent you a flower arrangement? Are you back on good terms?" Morgan directed his question to Reid.

"He sends things, sometimes. He sent flowers last year at Christmas, and he sent something when Rosie was born. But he's not back in my life, no." Said with vehemence.

It was a private thing between husband and wife. But now JJ felt compelled to explain, for the sake of the case.

"I've reached out to him a couple of times. Obviously, he wouldn't have known about Rosie if I hadn't. And he's sent a card, or flowers…but he's never called. Never tried to visit."

It had been a point of contention between JJ and Spence. That she would have taken the liberty to contact his father without running it by him had been risky. And he had, in fact, been upset with her. But he'd also realized her wisdom, when William's response had led to the evening in which he'd finally expunged himself of his deep-seated anger. It had been cleansing. And it had happened only because of the love of his wife. Recalling that, Reid reached over and squeezed her hand.

Hotch could feel the emotions rising, and sought to tamp them back down. Emotional impetus often served a positive role in a case. But the wrong kind, or the impetus introduced too early, could derail things entirely. He would try to bring them back on track.

"So we know he, or someone using his credit card," Hotch was cautious in his analysis, "was operating freely as recently as five days ago. Garcia, when will you be able to tell us the other recipient of the flowers?"

Not 'will you', but ' _when_ will you'. Garcia heard the vote of confidence in the phrasing, and tried to exude her thanks over their virtual connection. Mostly because she was about to disappoint her unit chief.

"Sir. The good news is that the shop will be open by the time you arrive. The bad news is that they apparently still have a paper system for the delivery end of the operation. So there's nothing for me to look at. It will have to be done via phone or an in-person visit."

Hotch thought for a moment, and then made a decision. He looked at his team. "All right. Forget the earlier assignments."

He had to walk a fine line here. The BAU was being called in to assist in finding the person who'd murdered Stephen Davidovitch. There was no definitive evidence that the disappearance of William Reid was connected to that case. The unit chief could only justify the diversion of his resources on the theory that William's situation _might_ prove to be connected. He _might_ be the most recently taken victim, and he _might_ still be alive. But until or unless they could connect the two cases, they would have to spread themselves very thin.

"Morgan and Reid, you're with the florist. Dave, JJ….you'll go to his home. Prentiss and I will set up at the FBI office and then go to his place of work. We'll conference via phone after that, and then go back to the original assignments. Unless we've turned up a viable lead."

Reid started to object, thinking the florist would prove to be the least likely to be helpful. But a look from JJ silenced him. Once they'd moved back to their seats for landing, she explained.

"He obviously wants to defuse anything you might be feeling, Spence. And at least I'll be at your father's home. I should be able to pick up on anything significant. If there's something Rossi and I don't understand, I'm sure Hotch will have us send for you."

He knew she was right. He knew _Hotch_ was right. But his psyche told him he needed to be at William Reid's home. Or maybe he was just caught up in emotion.

The young man sat, staring at the floor of the plane and shaking his head, as his wife laid a comforting hand on his back.

"I don't …it's so….ridiculous, JJ. This man won't get out of my life. I don't even know why I care."

"But you do." JJ wisdom.

Reid leaned forward, rubbing at his eyes before resting his forehead on the heels of his palms.

"God help me. I do."


	3. Chapter 3

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 3**

Morgan looked over at his passenger.

"Hey, Kid…how are you holding up?"

"I'm fine, Morgan. It's not all that hard to distance myself. Runs in the family."

Morgan picked up the bitterness in Reid's tone, as well as the anxiety. He knew from the last case involving William Reid how resentful his colleague was toward the man. But he also knew the man sitting beside him very well. He had too good a heart to be indifferent when his father might be in mortal danger, no matter how unworthy the elder Reid was of the title 'father'.

"Okay, then. But I would understand if you needed to step back, any time. All right?"

Reid knew Morgan was coming from a good place. But he hated to look weak in any way, even when it might have been expected of anyone.

"All right. But I'm fine. And I'll _be_ fine. You don't need to worry about me."

"Fair enough. We'll play it your way." _Far be it from me to worry about my kid brother._ "You want to take the lead with the florist, or do you want me to?"

"Doesn't matter. Be my guest."

Morgan kept silent for the remainder of the trip, ruminating. Reid was anything but 'okay' about this. That much was obvious. But the fact that he wouldn't admit it would make it hard for the others to be supportive. He had the sinking feeling that he might be piecing his Pretty Boy back together by the time this case reached a conclusion.

* * *

"Your husband is in denial."

JJ would have considered the statement to be impertinent and intrusive, had it come from someone other than Dave Rossi. But she knew how fond Rossi was of her whole family, including her very stubborn husband.

"He's not….well, maybe a little. He admitted to me that he cares, although he doesn't understand why."

" _That_ …is perfectly understandable." Rossi turned the words around on her. "His father wasn't exactly deserving, as I recall."

He remembered that other time in Vegas. That time when he'd first heard the details of how William Reid had abandoned his wife and son. And how, even without knowing the man, Rossi had wanted to condemn him every bit as much as his son had.

_He had the chance to be a father. He had the chance. God, what I would have given! For even a second day with my son! And this…..idiot….walks out on a frightened kid and his sick mother. What a sorry excuse for a man!_

JJ responded to him. "No, you're right. He wasn't much of a father. I don't even know what kind of person he is. I've never met him."

Of course she hadn't. But that fact had escaped Rossi.

"What was he like when you met him, Rossi?"

He would have to finesse this a bit. The senior profiler spent a few seconds in consideration.

"Well, you have to remember that we didn't meet under the best of circumstances. His son had just accused him of murdering a child."

JJ had to concede on that. "Okay, fair point. But what did you think of him?"

"Well….he seemed…..small."

"Small?"

"Smaller than I would have thought. He's not as tall as Reid. But I didn't mean 'small' just in terms of his height. He just seemed..…insubstantial."

"Insubstantial." The kind of word Spence would use. How appropriate that Rossi thought it would apply to her husband's father.

"Yeah. Like he could have disappeared right in the middle of your conversation….and you wouldn't even notice." He paused, thinking of another word. "Inconsequential."

"Insubstantial and inconsequential. You sound like Spence." She paused. "In fact, that's probably exactly how Spence has described him to me. I've always thought it was because of what he did to them. But now, you're saying….he's really like that."

Rossi thought a moment. "Perhaps I was influenced by knowing what he did as well, Cara. I will admit that I was angry with the man even before I met him."

JJ smiled at her older colleague's demonstration of caring for her husband.

"But, to answer your question…yes, I think he is really like that. The most vehement he got about anything was when he invoked his right to an attorney. Nothing about how good it was to see his son after so many years. Nothing about how impressed he was with what Reid had made of himself. He didn't even get all that riled when he realized Reid suspected him of murder. It was almost like it didn't matter enough."

Several minutes passed without words, JJ staring off out the window. Rossi glanced across at her, but could see she was lost in some thought that seemed to require her full attention. He waited her out.

When she spoke again, it was preceded by a sigh. "I wish I'd met him."

He was surprised at that. "You do?"

"I wish I'd met him, so I would have known what he was like. Because then I might not have tried to let him into our lives."

He hadn't known about this.

"You spoke with him?"

JJ shook her head. "No. I wrote to him. When Spence was so badly hurt, in New Orleans. He was Spence's only blood relative…I thought he should know. I thought he'd _want_ to know."

"Let me guess….no response, right?"

"None. Well, not right away, anyway. He did send a plant, and a note, a couple of months later, for the New Year. He apologized to Spence in the note."

Rossi was surprised. "How did that go over?"

JJ gave a bitter laugh. "Not all that well. Especially when Spence realized I'd been in contact with his father. He was pretty angry with me for a little bit."

"You only meant it for the best, I'm sure, Cara. But I'm not surprised at Spencer's reaction."

She looked over at him. "You sound like the voice of experience. Was it like that between you and your father?"

Rossi smiled as he shook his head. "My father was a good man. He was a better father than I was a son."

It sounded like there was a story there, but JJ didn't feel privileged to ask. She just pondered the seemingly countless array of relationships between fathers and their sons. A smile came to her face as she thought about the father and son closest to her.

Rossi noticed. "What makes you smile, young one?"

"My two guys. Spence and Henry. They love each other so much, and it's so obvious…..it's so hard to picture any other kind of relationship between a father and a son. And they're not even related by blood."

Rossi smiled in approval. "As it should be. Blood, in my opinion, is overrated. Every good Italian knows…love comes from the heart." He looked over and winked at her. "That's amore."

* * *

Hotch and Emily, having procured some space and established a working relationship with the Las Vegas office of the FBI, were on their way to the home of William Reid.

"How do you think he's handling it?"

A few years ago, she might not have felt as free to discuss a fellow team member with their boss. But that was before Hotch had forced a returning Emily Prentiss to agree to confide in him.

_"You'll inevitably have bad days. I just want you to tell me when you're having them."_

He'd known how hard it was for her to open up. But he also knew a person couldn't survive what she had…..the attack, the pain, the ensuing isolation…..unscathed. Her survival alone had demonstrated her strength….but the willingness to admit weakness was a more important demonstration. He'd banked on her having that strength….and he'd been right.

She _had_ confided in him. On more than one occasion. And, although they remained in a supervisory/subordinate set of roles, those sharings of confidence had also cemented their friendship. Now, Emily routinely confided in Hotch. And he, though more circumspect, confided in her. He could be no less than honest with her now.

"I don't know. You know how he is. He doesn't want anyone to see how it's affecting him."

She agreed. "He thinks we baby him. Here, he's married and has two kids, and he still thinks we baby him. And he thinks that, if he gives any hint that this is difficult for him, we'll think he's weak."

Hotch agreed, to an extent.

"I think it's more complex than that. He's protective of his mother. And even though it was his father who left them, somehow, in Reid's head, it reflects poorly on his whole family. So he wants to play down the impact his father had on all of their lives, to protect his family."

Emily chewed on that for a minute. "Hmm. I wouldn't have thought that. But now that you mention it…how many times have we encountered abused kids who continue to defend their abusers?"

Hotch's affirming smile was grim. "People need to reconcile their pasts with their identities. To question the past….let alone to denigrate it…is to denigrate the person they've become."

"Even if it makes absolutely no sense. Yes, I guess you're right. So, he's not going to let on how much this is getting to him….correct?"

"At least he has JJ. I think he'll be honest with her. But I don't think we can expect her to share it with the team. We'll just have to trust that she'll handle it."

"She will." Emily was emphatic. She knew both of her friends very well.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A.N. As with 'Consequences', I have to apologize up front to all of you who are familiar with the practice of law. No doubt I've gotten process issues wrong, including how a law office functions. Not to mention facts. I can't even 'plead the fifth'-I'm guilty.** _

* * *

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 4**

_How appropriate_ , thought Rossi, as they pulled into a small condo complex on the outskirts of the city. The external walls were the color of sand, making the building blend into the desert background that offset it. _It's barely there._

They'd been met by the patrol officer who'd conducted the original welfare check.

"Agents Rossi and Jareau? I'm Officer Guidry."

All three shook hands before heading in from the parking lot. Rossi quizzed the patrolman as they walked.

"So, you did the original check, is that right?"

"Yes, sir. It was a little unusual, being called out on the same day. You know, most people don't get excited if a competent adult is missing for a few hours."

Rossi nodded. "Agreed. We all need to be able to blow off some steam on our own now and then. But this was a different situation….."

"Yes, sir, it was. They'd just found that poor IRS guy dead in the desert, and then that KBNV reporter come up with that other IRS guy, and then they tried to make it sound like it was connected to that tax lawyer ran off a few months ago. This guy's," he poked a finger in the direction of the condo, "office was all over that. As soon as he didn't show up for work, they were on the phone."

There was something in his tone that bothered JJ. It sounded almost dismissive, as though he thought he'd been sent on a wild goose chase. She probed him.

"You do understand that the cases might be related, don't you? Between the tax attorneys and the IRS victim?"

"Well, I know the muckety-mucks believe it. Me? Not so sure. I know it's come out that tax lawyer who went missing before owed money to his clients. Probably ran off with their settlements, if you ask me."

JJ looked at Rossi, asking her unvoiced questions. _Could William Reid have done the same? Could he have swindled clients and run off? Is that the kind of man he is?_

Rossi just gave a subtle shake of his head that conveyed his wish to put off that particular discussion. Now he turned back to Guidry who, for reasons neither of the SSAs could understand, was sounding increasingly hostile as the conversation proceeded. Rossi decided a little exploration was in order.

"Are you thinking they called us in prematurely?"

Guidry looked like he was measuring his words, not sure of his response. Finally, he settled on something.

"If the brass think it's time for the FBI, then it's time for the FBI. My pay grade doesn't make those decisions. All I'm sayin' is that I conducted a welfare check, and found nothing to point me in the direction of thinking anything bad happened to this guy."

Defensive. But there was no reason to make enemies this early in an investigation. Rossi decided to be conciliatory.

Nodding his agreement with the police officer, he said, "You were asked to check on Mr. Reid's welfare, and you did. You found nothing out of order, and no signs of illness or injury. The FBI isn't questioning that at all."

JJ understood her colleague's strategy, and added, "You were able to tell us what _didn't_ happen to Mr. Reid. We're here to take a different kind of look," careful to avoid using the word 'better', "to see if we can get an idea of where he might have gone, or when."

Placated for the moment, Guidry moved ahead of them and opened the door, using a key.

"Where did you get that?" Like the others, JJ had wondered how the police had obtained access to William Reid's condo.

Guidry pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "Fake rock. Like all the crooks in the country don't know about them." He shook his head in ridicule. "Hard to believe somebody graduated from law school would do something so stupid. Why not just leave the door wide open?"

The profilers exchanged another look. The not-so-hidden-key meant that anyone could have accessed the condo without needing a ruse, or a break-in tool.

Or, the fact that the key was still in place when Officer Guidry performed his welfare check could mean that no one had used it at all. Perhaps William Reid _had_ simply disappeared again, as his son had said.

* * *

"Oh, thank God. Agent Hotchner, Agent Prentiss, we're so glad you're here."

Office Manager Dorothy Ricks met them at the front desk and was now escorting the two agents to a large conference room.

"Attorney Reid is such a good man, and such an important part of our business. I don't like to even think about anything happening to him."

They'd settled into the room and taken seats. Emily stated the obvious. "And yet you _did_ think something might have happened to him. Are you the person who called the police?"

Dorothy nodded. "Betty was the one who told me he hadn't shown for a 9 AM deposition, and that was virtually unheard of. No, actually it was _literally_ unheard of. I don't think William….Attorney Reid has ever been late for anything."

"Ma'am," Hotch now, "was there anything else that might have made you think something had happened to him? Something that would have pointed you away from the ordinary?"

Emily tried to help her. "A reason why you didn't just assume he'd had a flat tire, or something along those lines."

Dorothy waved the latter suggestion away. "Oh, no. William would never be caught unprepared. He would have had AAA there right away. And he would have called m….us…., at the very least. No, it was totally out of character for him. I knew right away that I should call the police."

The agents exchanged a quick glance, but then continued on with their questioning.

Emily took the lead now. "What about cases? Was there anything unusual about what he was working on? Anyone unhappy with how things were going?"

Dorothy shrugged. "There's always someone unhappy. If not our clients, who file some of the most ridiculous lawsuits, in spite of counsel against them, then it's the people on the other end of those lawsuits."

Hotch didn't choose to share his own background in law. "Did Mr. Reid have a primary field of practice?" Knowing he'd been described as a tax attorney, but not certain his practice had been that limited.

" _Did_ he?" Dorothy picked up on the use of the past tense. "You think he's dead, don't you?"

Emily tried to calm her. "We don't think anything, Ms. Ricks. We're simply trying to gather information."

Hotch joined in the effort. "Perhaps we could start with a review of his current case list. Who would be the best person to assist with that?"

"His paralegal. That would be Desmond. He's in the library. Would you like me to bring him here?"

Hotch thought a moment and then decided. "It would be very helpful if we could look at Mr. Reid's office for a few minutes, and then we can meet with Desmond."

Dorothy indicated her assent and led them down an L-shaped hallway, stopping at the next-to-corner office. Hotch, though never in private practice, was familiar with the symbolic placement of the individual attorney's office. William rated an outside space, and thereby a window view. But the owner of the corner office outranked him.

Dorothy used a master key to unlock the door and swung it open, entering ahead of the agents.

"It's pristine. Always has been. He's always kept it 'just so'."

She was right. Looking at William's desk, Emily could see that the phone was situated exactly the same distance from each side of the desk, in the upper right corner. A stapler was aligned perfectly beside the phone, and a wire basket next to that.

"The basket is empty. Is that typical?"

Emily wondered if the elder Reid was that quick in turning his work around. But she also wanted to know if the fact that no new work was accumulating might indicate something about how the office staff interpreted his disappearance.

"William is always prompt in his paperwork," said Dorothy with obvious pride. "He's one of our leaders in terms of billable hours, and he makes certain to have the documentation completed as soon as possible."

"But would his desk actually be empty?" Emily waved at the immaculate surface.

"Well….no, not quite that. I usually distribute things at the end of the day, before I leave for home, so it will be available for the attorneys when they come in."

"And, so…" prompted Emily.

Sadness showed in Dorothy's face. "I left things for him for the first couple of days. But, when we didn't hear from him….. well, I'm the office manager. I can't let things back up. I redistributed them."

Hotch, though he'd practiced law only as a prosecutor, was aware of how most law offices worked. He began to wonder if Dorothy hadn't accidentally 'redistributed' something crucial.

"What did you do with cases where Mr. Reid was already the attorney of record?"

Dorothy understood what he was asking. "Oh, I gave all of those to Attorney Halstrom. He's the founding partner. He wanted to be sure our ongoing customers would be satisfied."

Now Emily saw where Hotch had been going. "So you only redistributed cases that Mr. Reid hadn't already had in progress?"

"Exactly."

"All right, thank you."

Hotch was already moving about the office, looking for anything that might give him a work-based clue as to William's disappearance, while Prentiss scoured the office for the personal. Her scouring took only a minute.

"Wow, his office is rather….spare, isn't it? I mean there's only these few photos with….what, a Little League team?"

Dorothy smiled. "The firm sponsors the team. And William has been an assistant coach with them for as long as I've known him. He loves children."

That brought on a quick exchange of eye contact between the two profilers. _Except his own_ , went through both minds.

Emily continued with the short inventory of personal items in William's office. She picked up what looked like a wire metal sculpture. "Is this a…"

"It's the solar system. A model of it. William has a strong interest in science and mathematics. He told me once that he might have gone into science if he hadn't chosen the law. Maybe that's why he specialized in tax law. It requires a good knowledge of accounting."

"The fascination with numbers…" murmured Hotch, recognizing the Reid family trait. He looked at Dorothy.

"You've known him a long time, haven't you?"

"The entire thirty years I've been here."

Emily followed Hotch's train of thought. "You seem fond of him."

Dorothy blushed. "It's nothing like that. I mean, not that I wouldn't have liked…" She cut herself off, feeling like she'd said too much.

"We're not trying to intrude, Ms. Ricks. We simply need to get as clear a picture of Mr. Reid as we can. It might help us find him." Emily was sympathetic.

Dorothy looked out the window, apparently considering. When she'd decided, she turned back to the agents.

"William is a very private man. He doesn't let many people get close to him. I think he may have shared more with me than with almost anybody else here, but even with me, he's always been circumspect. You know….when you can tell there's more to be told, but you can't tell _what_ it is."

The FBI agents thought they knew at least one of the things the elder Reid might not have been sharing with his co-worker. The question was…how many other things was he not telling?

* * *

"Welcome to 'Blooms'. How can I help you?"

Morgan flashed his badge at the young Native American woman behind the counter.

"We're from the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit. We'd like to ask you some questions about one of your customers."

"Ookaay…" She sounded uncertain.

"Just a few questions," clarified Reid. "We're not investigating you. We're trying to find a missing person."

She seemed to relax at that. "Oh. Okay, how can I help?"

Morgan explained. "We're looking for a man who's been reported missing, and one of the last things he did was to buy flowers from you."

"He made a purchase with his credit card on December 31," added Reid.

"Wow. You're not asking much, are you? Only a zillion guys came in here for flowers that day. It was New Year's Eve."

Morgan acknowledged the dilemma. "We realize that. But we need to know who he sent those flowers to."

The clerk moved away from the counter and started for a doorway leading toward the back of the shop.

"Are you sure he sent flowers? What if he just picked something up?"

They'd been aware of that as a possibility. Still, they needed to try.

"Can you just look it up for us?" Morgan insisted.

The clerk turned and shouted into the back. "Dad! I need you out here!"

A minute later, an older man emerged from the back, drying his hands on a towel.

"What do you need, Mary?" He stopped short when he saw Morgan's badge flashed once again. Then he stepped forward, dried hand extended.

"Ben Yazzie."

"I'm agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid." Shaking of hands all around.

Reid spoke up first. "Yazzie. That's a Navajo name, isn't it?"

"Sure is. You from around here?"

"I grew up in Las Vegas, but I live in DC now. But I remember this area as Paiute territory."

Yazzie agreed. "So it is. But we all live in peace now." He smiled as he said it, to show he'd taken no offense.

Reid was embarrassed anyway. "Sorry. I didn't mean to imply…."

"Nothing implied. No apology necessary. What can we do for you?"

Mary explained what the FBI agents were seeking. "See, I've been telling you, Dad. We need to modernize. I can't even tell them if this person picked up flowers or sent them to someone."

She turned to the agents. "I've been telling him we need to keep electronic records, but he says his old paper system is good enough."

Ben Yazzie had obviously been through this with his daughter before.

"Relax, Mary. We don't need a fancy electronic filing system if we know our customers well." He turned back to Reid and Morgan. "Who is the customer you are inquiring about?"

Reid seemed to be deferring, so Morgan responded. "William Reid." He gave Yazzie a copy of the photo of William from his workplace website.

Reid watched as Yazzie reacted, even before seeing the photo.

"William Reid? He's missing?"

"You know him? You know him by name?"

Yazzie seemed a bit shaken by the news. It took him a minute to gather himself.

"I've been in business here for over twenty years. William has been a faithful customer for nearly all of that time."

Morgan flashed a look at Reid, then turned back to Yazzie. "Can you look at this photo and confirm that the person in the photo is the one you knew as William Reid?"

Yazzie did so. "It's him," was the sad response. "Did something happen to him?"

"We're not sure. Right now, we're just investigating it as a missing persons case."

Mary was more clear-headed than her father in the moment. And she was surprised at what she'd heard.

"They call in the FBI for an adult missing person? From DC? And he's only been missing since last week?" It seemed a disproportionate response.

Morgan acknowledged it as unusual, and explained. "He may be part of another case. We're looking into his disappearance as a precaution."

Reid spoke up now, anxious for news. "So, if you know my…..if you know him, do you remember if he was sending flowers? If so, to whom?"

Ben Yazzie shook his head in regret. "He picked them up. I remember talking with him that day. Usually I wouldn't see him so often, but he'd been in only a week or so before, sending something to his son's family for Christmas."

Reid's eyes shot to the floor. He'd accepted the arrangement into the house, but not acknowledged it to his father in any way. JJ had sent a 'thank you' card for all of them.

Morgan made note of Reid's reaction, and deflected attention from it by asking another question of Yazzie.

"You said he was a long time customer, but you weren't used to seeing him often."

"Right. A few times a year. It's just that, over the years, I came to recognize his face. I think it's important for a merchant to know his customers."

Looking back at Mary, as though to say, _And no computer will ever accomplish that._

Morgan continued the questioning. "Did he talk to you about who he was buying flowers for?"

Yazzie smiled. "Of course. He bought them for his wife."


	5. Chapter 5

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 5**

"His wife?" Morgan echoed Ben Yazzie's words, then turned to look at his colleague. Reid looked as though he'd been slapped.

Yazzie looked worried. "Did something happen to her as well?"

Looking at Reid, Morgan could tell he would be on his own during this interrogation. The younger man was simply staring at the ground in front of him, clearly trying to absorb the information. The senior profiler turned back to the florist.

"Did you ever meet his wife?"

"No. Only Mr. Reid. He stopped in a few times a year, always took a bouquet home for her. Now you tell me….Lord, what is this world coming to?"

Morgan felt like he needed to get Reid out of there. But there was something else he needed to know first.

"If a customer walks in, is there any kind of record of it beyond a credit card? What if he uses cash?"

Now Ben Yazzie exchanged an ' _I told you so'_ glance with his daughter.

"Yes. I keep a file on what repeat customers order. They seem to like it when I can replicate a particular arrangement exactly. So, even if it's a cash-and-carry transaction, I've got a record."

That was better than Morgan had hoped for.

"Can you put together a list of the dates he came in? Add in any phone orders. And any deliveries. And…I guess…let us know what the arrangement was. Someone will be by for it tomorrow. And we may have more questions for you."

"I'll be glad to help, Agent Morgan. I'm so sorry for whatever has happened to Mr. Reid…and his wife."

Morgan nodded a farewell at both Yazzies, then used a hand to Reid's shoulder to turn the younger agent around and toward the door. When they'd reached the SUV, Morgan turned to his friend.

"You all right? Reid?"

Reid squinted into the distance. "I always wondered if he'd replaced us. If he'd left us and made himself a new family. I just…"

"But Garcia never found any record of that when we had that case…"

"She searched for computer records, Morgan. She found his credit history, and his bank accounts. She even hacked into his own computer. But she only went back ten years. They'd have been long since divorced by then. And he'd have had plenty of time to remarry."

Morgan felt helpless in the face of the raw pain oozing from Reid. Silently, he put the SUV in gear, and headed on to their next destination, fully intending to task Garcia with looking more thoroughly into William Reid's past.

* * *

Miles away, Hotch and Emily were also in transit.

"So, do we even know if these two IRS guys knew each other?"

Emily asked the question to keep herself from saying ' _Can you believe that skank hung around children his entire life but left poor Reid to fend for himself?'_

From the look on Hotch's face, she knew she didn't really have to say it aloud anyway. But both of them knew that kind of discussion wouldn't move the case forward. Better to keep one's own counsel on thoughts like those.

"No doubt they were acquainted, but we haven't heard yet if they were anything more than work colleagues."

"I wonder if any of Davidovitch's cases moved on to the other agent when he retired. What was the other name again?"

"Farrell," responded Hotch. "And I've asked Garcia to run their case files to look for overlaps."

"Well, just so you know….I can't even do my own taxes. I won't be able to find any funny money in someone else's tax records."

Hotch laughed. "Not surprising."

Emily made a mock-hurt face at him, but ended up smiling back. Despite it being at her expense, it was always refreshing to hear Hotch make a joke. And she seemed to have a knack for bringing them out.

"Seriously, how are we going to be able to look at the books?"

"We're the FBI. There's got to be an accountant lurking somewhere in the Vegas office. And….well, I thought I'd put Reid to work."

Back to the subject they'd been trying to avoid.

"You want to keep him busy, don't you?"

"His mind takes him to some difficult places even when the case isn't personal. This time…"

Emily nodded. "You're right. Maybe he can take a speed-accounting course tonight," she joked.

Hotch glanced over at her. "I've got Garcia looking for one of those, too."

Emily shot wide eyes at him, and then squinted, trying to make out whether he was serious. With Hotch, one couldn't always tell. Not even Emily.

* * *

"Jeez," Morgan whistled. "This is pretty far into the middle of nowhere. How did anybody find him here? What the hell is _anybody_ doing out here?"

They'd driven for miles along a state road, then gone off road over an hour ago, following a Nevada state trooper over the very rough terrain.

"Las Vegas is entirely surrounded by the Mojave Desert, which extends well beyond Nevada, into Utah, Arizona and California. It's over 25,000 square miles in area. Give or take."

Morgan gave him a look.

"Well, the boundaries are rough. They're mostly delineated by the Joshua tree. So changes in climate change the borders."

"Oh. Well, my other question still stands. What, in God's name, would someone be doing out here? Other than dumping a body, that is."

He was referring to the hiker who'd stumbled upon the grisly dump site. The report had been delayed by a long-standing phone outage in the nearby visitor center. The hiker had been forced to cover more ground before he could attempt to reach police.

Reid stated the obvious. "The desert is a popular area for hikers and back-packers. But, you're right, there aren't all that many who come this far out."

"Which begs the question. If the unsub dumped the body this far out, it doesn't seem like he was planning on it being found. So, then, what's the significance of the bites to the tongue and the heart? It sounded like it would be a signature, and part of a display. But who's he displaying it to?"

Reid considered that a moment. Morgan was right. The mutilation had seemed part of a message from the unsub to those he hoped would discover his victim. But then, why put the display where it was so unlikely to be seen? He finished his thought aloud.

"Unless this is the kill site. Maybe the mutilation wasn't for display. Maybe it was to satisfy some compulsion. Maybe they came out here together, but then he couldn't move the body on his own."

So many maybes. Morgan gave them all thought. "Could be. Did we get a definitive cause of death yet?"

The obvious, removal of the heart, might have happened post-mortem. They'd been called in so early in this case, that some of the information they were usually provided wasn't yet available.

"Not as of when we left the city. But we're out of cell range here." It would have to wait until they returned.

Reid was still working on the display issue. "You know, Morgan, there are less traveled areas of the desert than this. I mean, we did pass a visitor's center about ten miles up the road."

"Ten miles up the road, Reid. The _road_. And then we spent another hour getting here _off_ road. I'd hardly call this well-traveled."

"I'm not saying that. I'm just saying that there are _less_ traveled areas. So maybe the unsub _was_ displaying, and just willing to have a delayed response to the display."

Reid was having trouble speaking, his breath coming in pants. After leaving the SUV, they'd had to hike uphill for a half mile before reaching the site where the body of Davidovitch had been found. The scene had been processed, and the body removed, yesterday. All that remained inside an area cordoned with evidence tape was a flattening of the sand and the scrub that overlay it.

"All right," said Morgan, looking around, " I'm winded after that hike, and I'm not carrying anything. What, are we at an elevation here?"

Nevada State Trooper Eli Bell answered him. "We're at about twelve hundred feet. Not exactly high desert, but enough to feel it."

"So I'm thinking the unsub couldn't have carried the body all this way. Which means this is looking more like the kill site." Morgan looked at Reid as he said it.

The genius understood. If this was a kill site, and not simply a dump site, the unsub and victim ;had likely traveled there together, before the victim had been incapacitated. And that would impact the profile. If they'd traveled to the wilderness together, perhaps the connection was something personal, rather than professional.

"What about an ATV? He might have been able to move a body that way."

"I don't know, Kid. It would be pretty tough to secure someone who wasn't conscious, let alone alive. Besides, he'd need to have transported the ATV here somehow. And the trooper said there weren't any tire marks here before the first responders."

"We should find out what the weather's been. The winds can be pretty impressive here. The sand can cover tracks within hours."

Reid bent to pick up some of that sand and run it through his fingers. As he straightened, he looked off to a horizon that seemed an impossible distance away. He'd lived near this desert for over half his life, yet never really experienced it. He'd never understood its challenge, nor its magnitude. Now, he was beginning to get a sense of both. For all of its beauty, the desert was filled with peril, and mystery.

The young genius stood, looking out over the expanse. He knew the desert might have issued him his ultimate challenge. It might have played a role in the loss of his father. And it might seek to conceal that loss from him, forever.

* * *

When he saw Rossi and JJ don their gloves, Officer Guidry felt compelled to remind them, "Remember, this isn't technically a crime scene."

_Yet_ , thought Rossi. He had a feeling about this, and it wasn't good. But all he said was, "Better to be safe than sorry, right?"

Guidry conceded. "Right. But I already checked with my lieutenant. He said you can look, and you can even touch…but you can't take anything."

JJ didn't see why they couldn't just leave a receipt for anything they might feel a need to take, but then, she wasn't so familiar with the legalities of this kind of search. The kind where a crime may or may not have been committed. Rossi didn't seem to be arguing, so she went along.

She began her search with an inventory of William Reid's bookshelves. Like his son, he seemed to be quite the bibliophile, with shelves on three walls surrounding a sofa in what appeared to serve as a living room. Before long, she found her search slowed by a diversion of her attention toward his reading choices.

_Asimov. I think Spence told me about that. Sagan. Makes sense. C.S. Lewis. Hmm. I thought he'd only written those children's books, but this is a space trilogy. Tolkien. Clark. This could be Spence's bookshelf._

Except that it contained none of the medieval literature Diana had so loved. JJ never quite knew if Diana had passed that affinity on to her son, or if he read the books only because they reminded him of his mother.

"JJ, take a look at this." Rossi interrupted her train of thought. He was at the far end of the shelves, where the books had been replaced by photos and mementos. JJ moved over to him.

"What is it?"

He was holding a framed black and white photograph. In it, a man Rossi recognized as William stood behind a group of six or seven year old boys, all in baseball tees. He introduced JJ to the image of her father-in-law.

"This is William. And….is this…" Rossi pointed to a toothless, glasses-clad boy in the front row. "…is this Spencer?"

She'd seen only one photograph of her husband as a boy. He'd explained it to her.

_"My mom had a break one time, and she believed photographs could be used to torture the people in them, so she burned every picture she had of either of us."_

He'd been sad, not to have a picture of his mother. But he'd also been resigned. _"I have an eidetic memory. I'll always be able to see her in my mind."_

And then, what had seemed a miracle. He'd found a photo of himself with Diana tucked between the pages of one of her old journals. One of the ones she'd written as a young girl. Apparently the photo had become lost and, providentially, saved. They'd framed it, and it now sat on the mantle in their home.

JJ looked at the framed photograph in Rossi's hand, nodding. "That's Spence."

She took the picture from him, and smiled at the image of her husband as a young boy, among other young boys. It was the first time she'd been able to conjure an image of him with anything resembling a normal childhood. Looking at the photograph, JJ was momentarily able to forget all of the pain of Spence's youth, and look upon him as a youngster, the same age Henry was now, enjoying the camaraderie of his teammates, and the investment of his father. The thought of it, and of what followed, brought wetness to her eyes, and anger to her spirit.

_He was so innocent. So undeserving of what happened to him. What could you have been thinking?_

In truth, she wasn't sure whether it was William Reid or God she was angry with, for this boy who'd lost his youth at such a tender age. All she knew was that she was angry.

_Now I understand, Spence. And I'm sorry I ever reached out to him._

All this transpired in JJ's head in matter of seconds. But it was long enough for Rossi to notice.

"Are you all right, Cara?" He spoke softly, not wanting Guidry to realize her reaction. They'd not chosen to tell the officer about her family connection to the potential victim.

She shook it off. "I'm fine. Just…. I'm starting to get it."

She began to move away, but then turned back.

"God, Rossi. He was just a boy. It would be like Spence suddenly walking out on Henry. I mean….for all my little boy has been through…." She had to compose herself, as she always did when she thought of how much loss Henry had endured. "…..for all that, he's never had to think he didn't matter. That no one cared about him. But Spence…"

"Spencer is resilient, thank God."

Knowing, even without having been there for all of it, that Reid had been called upon to demonstrate that resilience time and again. Now Rossi turned to face his young colleague directly.

"You need to tell me. Can you do this? Can you investigate this case the same way you would any other? Your feelings about William Reid are understandable. But can you put them aside?"

When he saw her taken aback, he continued. "It would be perfectly understandable if this was too close. It's your husband's father. You don't need to work it, and neither does he."

JJ closed her eyes, effortfully bringing herself back to an impassive stance.

"I'm sorry if I got emotional, Rossi. It won't happen again. Or, if it does…" She'd seen a bit of disbelief in his look, "….if it does, you can call me out on it...call either of us out... and we'll step back. We don't want to compromise the team. But I know that Spence needs to do this…."

Rossi put up a palm. "Understood. So, let's get back to work. Why don't I finish with these, and you can take a look around the rest of the place?"

He was trying to move her away from the personal mementos that seemed to trigger her emotional response, and JJ knew it. Just like she knew he was right.

"Okay… okay, you're right. I'll take the bedrooms and bath.."

"Agreed."

JJ headed down the hallway, noting. as she passed him, that Officer Guidry had taken up a seat at the small kitchen table and seemed to be texting on his cell.

"Do you need to observe me in the other rooms?" Letting him know that she was aware he'd been making sure nothing untoward took place in the living room.

Guidry seemed uncertain, now that the FBI agents were separating. "Umm… no, I guess you're okay by yourself. Just give a yell if you find something."

_Right._ JJ proceded down a short hallway and into a gray bedroom. Literally. The walls were gray, as was the carpet and the curtains. Only the bedding broke up the color scheme, with a black bedspread serving as a backdrop for bright burgundy pillows and shams.

_Almost_ not there. But there. The gray suggested a desire to blend into the background, the bright burgundy a willingness to be noticed. It seemed there might be some complexity to William after all.

A quick purview of the room yielded little. The dresser top was empty, the bed unadorned. A small master bath held only towels and a few toiletries. The bedroom closet displayed neatly hung dress shirts, slacks and suit jackets, with a few folded jeans and sweaters on the built-in shelves. Absently, JJ skimmed the racks for sweater vests and scarves, and was disappointed not to find the sartorial connection between father and son. But then her eye caught something.

She stood on tiptoes to reach all the way to the back of the high closet shelf, pulling a box forward. As she lifted it down, she was impressed with its weight. The box obviously held something of some heft.

JJ brought the box over to the dresser and laid it down. She wriggled the top from it and looked inside. Instantly, she recognized the contents….and was shocked to see them.

_But how….? And why?_


	6. Chapter 6

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 6**

Morgan and Reid were the last to arrive back to the Vegas FBI office, after making the long trek in from the desert. JJ's eyes anxiously followed her husband as he moved around the table to take a seat next to Hotch, trying to assess his emotional state. He looked tense, and frustrated.

Notably, he'd avoided eye contact with her. He'd done that kind of thing before, in a vain effort to protect her.

_He's afraid I'll be able to read the look in his eyes, and that it will worry me. Like the fact that he isn't looking at me won't do the same. That's my Spence._

So she did what she knew would work. She stared at him until he felt compelled to look at her.

When she caught his eyes, she queried him. _How are you?_ Then watched his face change as he gave up attempting to deceive her. His silent response was obvious. _I need you._

But it would have to wait. Hotch had arranged for them to debrief together before meeting with the Las Vegas SSAs in charge of the case. It was a courtesy being afforded them by their Vegas colleagues because of the personal connection with a possible victim, but also because the William Reid case had yet to be definitively connected to the Davidovitch murder.

The unit chief started the discussion, letting his eyes rest more often on his youngest than on the rest.

"We were only able to speak with the office staff and his paralegal, the other attorneys were out of the office. According to the office manager, there was no unusual behavior until he failed to come to work."

Emily interjected, "She seemed very fond of him. Seemed to know him really well."

Reid's eyes shot in her direction. "How well?" _He's married and he's fooling around?_

Emily was quick to back down. "Not… well, I don't know. But I got the sense that it wasn't romantic. And that she was sorry it wasn't."

The others followed her gaze to Hotch for confirmation.

"I had the same sense as Emily. But not a sense of jealousy."

"Just regret," clarified Emily, and there was something in her voice that said she was familiar with the sentiment.

Hotch brought them back to the main issue. "We'll be getting a list and synopsis of his cases for the last six months. Some of them were redistributed to other attorneys in the office, but his paralegal thought he'd be able to figure out which had primarily been William's."

That plan didn't sit quite right with Rossi.

"Davidovitch was already retired for six months. If there's a connection, it might well go back a lot further than that. It could be as long as thirty years."

"Rossi's right," agreed Morgan. "We need to have Garcia cross reference all of the IRS agents' cases with both of the attorneys' cases, as far back as we can go."

Hotch put up a hand to placate them. "We'll have Garcia do everything she can. But it seems William Reid was a little….late….to digitizing his cases, so many of them were entered into their system as scanned documents, rather than new electronic data."

Emily smiled and look pointedly at Reid as she added, "Yes, it seems he was very fond of pen and paper." _Like his son_. But she didn't need to add that. It was already in all of their minds.

She continued, filling them in on the visit to the IRS office.

"They were all pretty shaken up about Davidovitch. I wouldn't exactly say they were fond of him…considering none of them had seen or spoken with him since his retirement dinner. But there was definitely a sense of fear, like they were wondering if it could happen to them."

JJ asked, "Was he involved in anything that any of them knew of? Any investigations? Any angry clients?"

Hotch responded with a simple. "He was an auditor."

General groans at that. Morgan said it for all of them. "So he pretty much had nothing _but_ angry clients."

"Well, there must have been a case or two that stood out from the others. Someone who struck his colleagues as being unusually upset…right?"

JJ found the need to contribute to the conversation, if only as a means of getting her mind off her husband. And the news she had to share.

"There was," said Hotch. "There were actually several. We gave the names to Garcia. She should have something for us soon."

Morgan had his phone out, ready to check in with his Baby Girl, but Reid put out a hand to stop him.

"You'd better put the volume down on that. Do you realize how many things we've given her to do, just this afternoon?"

Emily smiled. "Are you saying we might have caused her to implode?"

Rossi shrugged. "We may as well find out. At least she's two thousand miles away."

"Two thousand, four hundred, twenty six," corrected Reid, not noticing the smiles around him. He might be emotionally stressed, but he was still Reid.

Morgan made the connection, opting to keep it off speaker until he appraised Garcia's mood. The others could only hear his end of the conversation.

"Hey, Momma… how…I know, I know…..hey, cool your jets, Baby Girl…breathe...take a breath….in…out…..that's it…..all right, I'm putting you on speaker, all right?"

He'd walked away from the table, now came back and put his phone in the middle.

"Garcia?..." Hotch used his best command tone. "What have you got for us?"

A long, audible inhalation and exhalation came through the phone.

"Sir! I'm still running a couple of programs, and I didn't think I'd be able to look at any of Mr. Reid's older cases until at least tomorrow, because they were sending the information electronically, but the scanned documents took up so much bandwidth that it kept clogging their system…but that's not a problem any longer."

"It's not?" Having the sense that this wasn't the good news it should have been.

"No! It's not a problem any longer because they shut off the flow of information altogether. I thought they'd crashed their system, so I called them, but a woman named Dorothy Ricks told me that her boss said they were violating confidentiality and he made her stop. He's also demanding that I delete the information they've already sent me."

"Garcia, you didn't…" Reid didn't care about the legality just now. He only cared about finding out what had happened to his father.

"Of course I didn't, my baby genius. But it will make it harder for me to go in their system without being noticed. I can do it, but they'll be looking for me. And it will take me longer to bring everything over, with the size of the files. That gives their security more time to find me."

Reid had a thought. "Would it be faster to just look at the files in place? If you can get me into their system, maybe I can just read through them without having to download."

Brows went up around the table. They all knew Reid could digest written information at lightning speed. They'd seen him do it before. But…. _that_ fast?

"Spence….are you sure?" JJ was concerned that his emotional involvement with the case might affect his ability to process the information.

He shook his head. "No. But I have to try."

"Garcia?" Hotch prompted her to react to Reid's proposal.

"I can remote in and send the visual to one of your monitors there. Yes. Yes, I can. And I can set up a 'little thing' that will tell us if they know we're in there."

Morgan teased her. "A 'little thing'?"

"Yes, Derek, a little thing." They could all hear the confidence returning to her voice, as she announced this solution to one of many problems.

Reid cleared his throat and spoke up again.

"Garcia….did you find any records of his… marriage?"

They hadn't given their report yet. Only Morgan knew about William Reid's visits to the florist to buy flowers for his wife. Now JJ's eyes flew to her husband. "Spence?"

He didn't even try to hide the bitterness. "That's right. He married again. He brought her flowers all the time. Dutiful husband that he was." Then corrected himself, hoping, in spite of the vitriol he felt. "Is."

"Pen?" JJ prompted Garcia to respond.

"Nada. Nil. Nothing. I found nothing, sweet thing. Only a record of his marriage to your Mom, Reid. It looked like they were married for about eight years before you came along…right?"

Reid made no response, still trying to absorb what she'd said about not finding a record of William's second marriage.

Morgan saw the dilemma in his friend's face. "See? Maybe Yazzie got it wrong." Not believing it for a minute.

"Or he just lied to Yazzie, like he lied to everyone else." Bitterness laced with anger.

Hotch scrutinized his young genius. They were only a few hours into the case investigation, and the young man's emotions were starting to leak into the process. It would bear careful watching. And, perhaps, a difficult decision to isolate Reid.

JJ almost cringed when she realized she and Rossi were up next. Spence was already struggling, and he didn't even know yet.

Her colleague started the report. "We noticed a little hostility from the responding officer….Guidry was his name. He made the welfare check on William Reid, and he was pretty defensive about not having noticed anything out of place."

"So there _was_ something out of place?" Emily didn't understand what he was trying to say.

Rossi shook his head. "No. Nothing obvious. But Guidry wasn't buying our assurances on that. He sat and watched the whole time we were there, and then…"

"And then he insisted we leave everything as we found it." JJ sounded upset.

Emily shrugged. "I don't get it. What…"

JJ spoke over her. "I found something. It may not be related to the case, but ….I thought it might be important …." Her voice trailed off. In truth, it might not be important to the case at all, and she knew it. But it _was_ important to her. And, she knew, it would be important to her husband. Moreover, she knew he would be upset that William had it.

Reid's eyes were penetrating. "What is it?"

JJ waited a beat before responding. "It was a journal. It was one of your mother's journals, Spence."

* * *

They begged off dinner with their teammates, wanting to call home before the kids were asleep.

"We'll get something in the room, and see you all in the morning," JJ explained. It had been a very long day, and she wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by her family, even if only virtually. It wasn't hard to see that Reid felt the same way.

Hands clasped, they rode the elevator in silence. JJ leaned on her husband and rubbed his arm. When they finally made their way into the privacy of their room, she simply turned around and opened her own arms, and he gratefully stepped into them.

The depth of his need was apparent in how tightly he held her.

"Rough day, huh?" So understated, it was almost a joke. Making it sound like almost any other rough day, and not the one on which he'd found out his father might have become the victim of a grisly killer. And the one on which he'd found out that his father had gone on to have a whole new family after he'd abandoned his first wife and son.

"Hmmph." His face was buried in her shoulder.

She started to pull away, but he just held her tighter. She would have let him, but...

"Spence, it's after nine at home. I know Henry isn't going down until he hears from us."

The thought of his own children missing him was motivation enough. Reid broke away and motioned JJ to the bed. He joined her there a moment later, his tablet already summoning the video connection. The contact made, their screen lit up…and so did the two looking at it.

Her brow was furrowed at first, as though she was trying to figure something out. But, as soon as she recognized the faces, Rosie burst into a wide grin.

"Hi, Baby Girl!" Without planning, they'd said it in unison.

"Daddy! Mommy!" Rosie tried to reach out and touch them through the screen, then appeared annoyed when her hand wouldn't go through the glass.

"Hi, Sweetheart! Mommy misses you!"

Daddy's head pushed Mommy's away. "Daddy misses you, too! What did you do today?"

"Played."

For all of her advanced language skills, and her wide vocabulary, Rosie could still be a woman of few words. Reid often watched her, feeling like he could see her trying to sort through what she wanted to say and, becoming overwhelmed, settle on just one or two words. She so often looked like she wanted to explode with speech but, somehow, just wasn't ready. JJ had noticed it too, and would often tease her husband.

"Maybe you were like that as a toddler too, Spence. But you obviously got over it."

"Hey," he would answer, in mock indignation, "I resemble that!"

"Where's Henry?" asked the young boy's mother.

Now a head of shaggy blonde hair appeared on their screen. Henry, to his mother's chagrin, liked to model himself after his father.

"Here I am!"

"Hey, Little Man, we missed you today. How was school?"

"Okay." Another Reid of few words. Sometimes.

"What did you do?"

"Nothin'."

Reid gave his son the one-eyebrow raise. _Do they become teenagers in the second grade?_

"You went to school and did nothing all day? What about your spelling test?"

"Oh, I got a hundred on that."

Reid smiled and high-fived his son through the screen.

"I'm sorry I'm not there to help you with your science project tonight."

"It's okay, Daddy. Papa is helping me."

"He is?" Disappointment in Reid's tone. He'd been looking forward to it.

Now the voice of Charles Jareau could be heard, though the face on the screen was still Henry's. And then Rosie's. And then Henry's again. Finally, the screen seemed to be pulled back, so that both faces could be seen at the same time.

"Don't worry, Spencer. I'm just helping him gather his materials, and we're doing a little search on-line. You'll have plenty of time to map the stars when you get home."

It was their most consistent bonding experience. Henry would join his father outside, and learn about the stars and planets he could see from his very own backyard. When the science assignment had been made, the youngster had been adamant about wanting his project to be about astronomy. JJ had come to the rescue of both of her men when she found the umbrella idea on the internet.

"You take a clear umbrella, and you go outside and start marking the stars you can see through it."

"Like a planetarium!" Henry's vocabulary was pretty good, too. And so was the rest of his mind. It had been his idea to rotate the umbrella to show his classmates how the night sky changed over time. It was enough to make JJ wonder if she would even be able to understand his projects by the time he hit middle school.

Sandy made a brief appearance behind the children. "Hello, Sweetheart. Hi, Spencer. How is Las Vegas? You haven't been back there in a long time."

The Jareaus didn't know the details of this case…..nor those of any of their other cases. They just knew that, if their daughter and son-in-law were being called in, it meant that death had come to the innocent. This time, they also didn't know that it was possible that a member of Reid's family had become one of those innocents.

"It hasn't changed all that much. Maybe more crowded, is all." Reid kept it superficial.

"Well, I'm going to head these two off to bed, if you don't mind. Henry insisted on staying up for your call, but tomorrow is a school day."

"Okay, Mom. But could we speak with Dad for just a minute while you're doing that?" Code for, 'alone, without the kids'. Sandy caught her daughter's meaning and agreed.

A round of 'good night' and 'I love you' ensued, and then Reid and JJ were left to talk to Charles. Without giving him the details of their official case, they explained about William having gone missing, and the concern that the two might be related.

"My God, Spencer. I'm sorry. So sorry." He knew better than to ask if Reid was all right. Of course he wasn't.

"Thanks. I need to ask you to do something for me."

"Anything."

"In our bedroom closet, there are a couple of boxes on the floor in the left hand corner. They're my mother's journals. I think they're pretty much in chronological order. Can you take a look and see if there are any missing? She wrote the date at the top of each entry."

"Of course. Can I ask why?"

JJ responded this time. "I was at William's home today. And I found what looks like one of Diana's journals. I opened it and it looked like her writing, as I remember it. I wanted to take it with me, but our 'chaperone' from the police insisted it had to stay there, since there's not been an official determination of a crime."

"You couldn't just pull rank?"

"Ha. I wanted to but, technically, he was right. Rossi indicated I shouldn't ruffle feathers, so I didn't. Spence will go back there tomorrow to look at it."

"Hmm." Charles was familiar with the journals' role in his son-in-law's life. They'd shown him what his mother had been like as a healthy young woman….someone he'd never met until she'd introduced herself through her writing. And they'd been the primary way JJ had come to know her mother-in-law. "Do you think he kept it as a memento? Or do you think there's some significance to it?"

"I won't know until I read it. But it would help to know if there's an entire year missing, or if this is just some sort of 'extra' thing. I didn't pay attention to the dates when I read through them." He'd been too emotional about the content.

"All right. Sounds like a project. I'll get back to you when I've gone through them. Please, both of you….take care of one another."

They both smiled at the paternal concern. "Always do. And, Dad, thanks again to you and Mom. We love you."

The connection broken, JJ scooted behind her husband on the bed.

"Let me rub some of this out." She put her thumbs to work on the knots in his shoulders.

Reid tipped his head in all four directions, giving her better access. "Aahh.."

Behind him, she smiled. "Feels good, does it?"

"Feels amazing. What would I do without you?"

Even though they'd been keeping the conversation light, she could hear the depth of meaning in his words. JJ moved forward and brought her arms around his, hugging him from behind. She rested her chin on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?"

She moved with him as he heaved a bitter sigh through his chest.

"For my family, this was just a normal day."

"You have a bigger family now, Spence. One that doesn't walk out on one another. We're all healthy, and we're all with you in this."

He lifted one of her hands to kiss the back of it. "Whatever 'this' is. But you know I count on it. On you. On all of you."

Reid stood and repositioned himself back against the headboard, pulling JJ up next to him. He'd always loved feeling the weight of her head against his shoulder. It made him feel grounded. And that was exactly what he needed right now.

She tipped her head up to him. "Tell me about it."

He recited for her all of the conversation they'd had with Ben Yazzie and his daughter, and the bitterness seeped out again.

"His 'wife', JJ. I don't care if Garcia can't find a marriage certificate. Maybe he didn't bother to make it legal. But, if there wasn't someone he thought of that way, why would he tell the florist that's who the flowers were for?"

"Spence…if there's no record, maybe it was a newer relationship. Maybe he didn't really walk out on you and just move on right away."

"Twenty years, JJ. Yazzie said he'd been in business that long, and my dad had been his customer the whole time."

She gave up. "I don't know. I'm sorry, Spence. And…" She sat up and turned to face him. "I'm sorry that I reached out to him at all. I should have respected that you didn't want him in your life. I just thought…"

He cut her off. "You just thought that he must be like your dad. You couldn't picture anything else…..I know."

JJ's relationship with Charles had always been strong, even when tested around the death of her sister. He'd been faithful to his remaining family, leading them through a time of grief and trial that could have ended them. Instead, it had made them stronger. Meeting him so many years later, Reid had felt the same kind of encouragement from his father-in-law. He'd long ago decided that Charles Jareau should be his parenting role model.

JJ acknowledged it. "You're right. I guess I've seen my fair share of dysfunctional parents, but I've always hoped they had it in them to do the right thing when their kids most needed them."

"Maybe most of them do. Just not William Reid."

She could sense his need to change the subject again. "Tell me about the desert."

He knew she wasn't asking for case details. Morgan had already filled the team in on the situation of the scene, the desolate location, and their discussion about whether it was a dump site or a kill site, and what it all might mean for the profile. Now her husband described for her the feeling of it.

"It's huge. Quiet, except for the wind. Cold. Barren, almost. Just some scrub and a few tumbleweeds. And yet, there's color. The cliffs in the distance…they call it the high desert….they're yellow, but also brown, and orange, and there's even a hint of red. The sand seems to change color whenever a cloud passes in front of the sun. It feels….ancient. Like it's been there forever. And somehow it manages to seem like it's been untouched by humans at the same time that it seems like it holds so much history."

"I was reading about it before you and Morgan came back. The Anasazi, they were called. The ancient civilization."

He nodded. "Yeah. There's a museum here, The Lost City Museum. We should go there sometime."

"Maybe when the kids are older, we can bring them out. They should see where their Dad comes from."

He laughed. "Right. Circus,Circus. That's the Reid side of the family."

"Stop. The Reid side is also the one that appreciates the beauty of the desert, and the night sky. I think you've already passed that second one on to our son."

Reid pulled her back against him. "He does love it. And I love watching it with him. Can't wait to show it to Rosie, too."

"Don't you be keeping her up late. You know she's a bear when she doesn't get enough sleep."

"Speaking of, why don't you try to get some? It's been a long day, and we're three hours past our own bedtime."

JJ eyed her husband. "Why don't I? As if you don't need it?"

"I don't think sleep will be coming my way tonight, JJ. My mind is too active."

"Spence, tomorrow may very well be another difficult day. And a lot of the work will depend on you."

He was already planning to go to his father's condo to read Diana's journal, and then back to the FBI office to stealth-read his father's case files.

"You need to get some rest." Now she looked at him with a sly smile. "I know how to help you relax. What you need is a good dose of endorphins. And I know just how to give it to you."

It turned out she was right. They gave each other that good dose of endorphins and afterward, still wrapped up in one another, they slept.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 7**

"How did he seem?"

Hotch and Morgan were walking a little behind the others, on the way back from dinner.

Morgan shrugged. "He did his job. I wasn't so sure he'd be able to, when we left the florist. He was pretty thrown at the idea of his dad having married again. Said he'd always wondered about it, but it sounded like he'd convinced himself otherwise. Anyway, by the time we got to the site, he was back on the case."

Hotch was still concerned, and he valued Morgan's opinion.

"Do you think he's repressing?" If so, the genuine emotion might surface at a most unfortunate….and potentially dangerous….time.

"I think he's compartmentalizing. Intellectually, he knows we haven't tied the two cases together. That, actually, we aren't even sure his father is the victim of a crime. So I think he's able to separate his feelings about his dad from the work on the case. At least for now."

Unstated was the concern that they would learn that William Reid was, indeed, a crime victim. And then his son would no longer be able to maintain the emotional separation.

Morgan continued, "I don't know how he is who he is, Hotch. I mean, every time we learn something new about his father, it points to a guy who ran out on his family, who chose not to stand by a sick woman and a young son. And lived not ten miles away from his son, without ever letting the boy know. Damn it, Hotch. My dad was my hero. He was the person I couldn't wait to tell about my day, about what had gone right, and what had gone wrong. He gave me advice. He played ball with me. He took me fishing. I was devastated when I lost him. But he died a hero. Someone I looked up to. Someone I look up to even to this day. What did Reid have? Nothing! I've never told him this, but I'm amazed that he became the person he did, with his background. I may tease him, but the Kid's pretty damn strong."

Aaron Hotchner had grown up with a love/hate relationship with his own father. He'd admired the man, and craved his approval. But that approval had been hard to win from the stern, sometimes emotionally abusive, Thomas Hotchner. And yet, his sons had both idolized him.

"Sometimes we see who we want to see….and sometimes we see them as they are. At least Reid has a realistic image of his father."

They'd caught up to Rossi and Emily, who had heard the latter end of the conversation.

"My father had a hard time being in the shadows. The spotlight was always on my mother, as the ambassador. People seemed to think that Dad should have loved it, being able to travel, and live in all these interesting places, without any real responsibility. But he didn't. He had a career before Mother got involved in politics. And he gave it up, so she could follow her dream."

"Is that what drove them apart?" asked Rossi. He knew Emily's parents had divorced when she was in her teens.

"No. It was me."

"You?" Hotch couldn't imagine Emily Prentiss coming between her parents.

"He thought I needed a more normal life. And Mother didn't. She thought it was better to live in an 'extraordinary' way. And then…"

She stopped. The only person she'd ever told about her teen pregnancy was David Rossi. She wasn't quite ready to share it with anyone else yet.

Rossi picked up on it. "And then he took you back to the States, to have an idyllic high school experience, right?"

They all laughed, knowing that high school was anything but idyllic for most of its participants.

Emily was still smiling as she continued. "Well, not exactly idyllic. But normal. I made friendships that seemed like they could last beyond the next short term State Department assignment. I went to parties, and the prom. Believe me, as tough as high school can be, it was still better than what I'd had."

"But it hurt your parents' relationship?" Morgan was curious.

"Their dreams were too different. That's what hurt them. They loved each other, I'm sure of that. That's why my dad made the sacrifices he did. But, in the end, they saw different futures, and they couldn't reconcile them with the present."

"What happened to him, Princess?" Morgan said it softly, somehow already sure he knew the answer. After all, she'd never mentioned going to visit him.

"He died when I was twenty-three. I was just out of college, and I'd gone back to Europe, to see it through a 'commoner's eyes'. And he had a heart attack."

"I'm sorry," said Rossi, as though it had just happened.

She gave a sad smile. "It was a long time ago, Rossi. But thanks."

They'd reached the hotel elevator bank, and would soon separate. Hotch went back into unit chief mode.

"We'll meet at the LVFBI office at 0800 tomorrow. Everyone, get some sleep. It promises to be another long day."

On the fourth floor, they fanned out into separate rooms, where each would spend time thinking about the men who'd given them life, and the complicated relationships among human beings. Two of them would remember the moment they'd assumed the awesome responsibility of fatherhood, even if only for a day.

* * *

"Hey, how long have you been up?" JJ rolled to her back and stretched her arms wide.

"For a while, I guess." Reid was running his fingers rapidly down the pages of a thick volume. JJ recognized the attempt at distraction.

"Did you sleep?" He'd seemed relaxed enough last night, after her ministrations.

"For a few hours. You were right…you do know how to put me out." He grinned at her, remembering it.

She returned the expression. "But it didn't last? Spence, you must be exhausted."

He dismissed her concern. "I'm okay. And besides, it's nine AM at home. My body clock tells me I should be at work already."

"Ugh. Not mine. I think I need a run to wake me up."

Her husband just looked at her and laughed. Running for fun had always been, and would always be, anathema to him, and yet his wife craved it.

"Go ahead. I've got this." He held up a mug of steaming coffee. "We don't have to be there until 8 anyway."

JJ slipped from the bed and into her running clothes and shoes. She peeked over Reid's shoulder at the book he was reading. "Anthropology." It was his latest field of study.

"It's actually pretty fascinating. I'm reading about cultural relativism."

"Uh-huh." She weighed the decision of whether to tie her shoes now, or wait until she got outside the door. She could tell Spence was about to expound on something, and she wanted to make sure she'd have time to fit in the run. Decision made, she waited until she saw him take in a breath, and grabbed her shoes.

"See you in a little bit. Happy reading!"

* * *

Hotch had decided to accompany Reid today. He wanted to gauge the young agent's ability to handle the case emotionally. And, in truth, he was curious about William Reid. Like the others, he tended not to hold the runaway father in particularly high esteem. But the senior profiler had simply been in the job too long to ignore the fact that there were at least three sides to every story. He would try to withhold his judgment on the potential victim until he'd allowed William's voice to be heard, by whatever means it would be expressed.

JJ had been disappointed not to go along, wanting to be supportive of her husband. But Hotch's wisdom told him that Reid might process the scene more openly if he wasn't worried about triggering the concern of his wife.

_Although he might be just as likely to try to hide his reaction from me._

As much as Reid respected his unit chief, he didn't like to look vulnerable in front of him, despite the senior agent's constant demonstrations of support, and even after having proven himself to Hotch so many times in the past. But this case presented a whole new depth of possible emotional involvement, and Hotch wasn't sure Reid would be able to rein it in, even if he wanted to.

As he drove them over to the condo, Hotch glanced across at his passenger, who was staring out the side window.

"How far is this from where you lived as a boy?"

Reid shrugged. "Miles...and worlds. When my father was with us, we actually lived in a neighborhood, with individual houses, and yards. Remem...oh, that's right. Only Morgan and Rossi saw it when we looked into the Riley Jenkins case. He'd lived only a block or two away. Anyway, after my dad left, we moved to an apartment. It wasn't in the best area, and it was pretty small, but that made it easier to keep up."

Hotch chanced another sideways glance before turning his eyes back to the road.

"You took care of it? Was your mother that ill already?"

Reid nodded, slowly. "In spurts. She'd been ill for years, even before I was born. But it progressed, and I think...no, I _know_...that the stress of being left alone made it even worse. She did go on meds sometimes, and they helped a little. But then, you know, she would decide that she was better, and then she'd stop the meds, and then would come the spiral."

"She didn't realize it was the medication that was helping her." A statement, more than a question. It wasn't an unusual phenomenon.

"I think she knew. But she hated how the meds made her feel. She said she felt...blunted...like she wasn't really living her own life. As intelligent as she was, I think the medication may have clouded her judgment. So, she would take the first chance to decide she was cured, and go off the meds...and, when she did, there was no judgment at all."

Hotch was shaking his head throughout Reid's speech. His own son, Jack, was approaching the age when William had left Reid alone with an incapacitated Diana. Like Diana, he was now single-parenting. But, unlike Diana, he was healthy. He simply couldn't imagine abandoning any child to a situation like that, let alone his own son. Couldn't imagine how any adult who'd become aware of it would have left a child essentially on his own.

"So you handled the household? Shopping, cleaning? Paying bills? How did you support yourselves?"

Reid gave a bitter snort. "I didn't realize it at the time, but that was the one thing my dad actually did for us. He made sure Mom was set up with disability. It wasn't a huge amount, but there was money deposited into an account every month, and I wrote checks on it." He smiled to himself. "I became pretty good at forging her signature. Of course, I had to do it for all those notes home from school as well. I had plenty of practice."

"Didn't anyone realize? Didn't the school realize?"

"Oh, yeah, they did. Mom actually went to a couple of parent-teacher meetings when she was taking her meds. And she reamed them out for not challenging me enough. So they kept pushing me up through grades until they ran out of grades. That was about the time she showed up to a meeting as she was coming off meds. When that happened, she didn't quite take care of herself, you know? Didn't shower much, or dress. Didn't even get out of bed for days at a time. So she showed up in her slippers and robe, and they thought she was drunk, and they called social services."

"And?"

"And I heard them gossiping about it in the hallway, so I ran home and cleaned up. And I told the social worker that Mom had gotten sick that day."

"And they believed you." Hotch was too schooled in human behavior to think otherwise. And disappointed that those who looked out for society's children weren't schooled enough.

"They did. Of course, maybe not entirely. There were a few more visits over the next couple of years, but I was always able to cover. And then, I guess they decided I was old enough to take care of myself, or ask for help if I couldn't."

Hotch shook his head again. "I'm sorry." For the child Reid should have been, but had not been allowed to be.

Reid shrugged it off. "It was a long time ago, Hotch. If I've learned anything in this job, it's that we all have a story to tell." In a lower voice, he added. "I guess I'm about to find out more of mine."

* * *

Officer Guidry was apparently on chaperone duty again today, and met them once again in the parking lot, using William's not-so-hidden key to gain access to the condo. Reid followed Hotch through the doorway, a certain hesitation evident in his step.

Despite the brief personal contact with his father several years ago, Reid felt like he was entering some sort of chasm chiseled out of his own life. A solidity that should have been there, but wasn't. And now, he realized, he might come to learn if it was worthy of the importance he'd always given it. He was in the strange dilemma of wanting to believe he'd actually missed nothing through the abandonment of his father, while simultaneously still hoping to learn he'd come from better stock.

Hotch held back while his younger colleague wandered about the room, taking in the bookshelves and William's taste in literature, stopping every so often to pull out a volume.

Guidry remarked on it. "You people can really tell that much about a person by what they read? That blonde chick was looking at the books yesterday," he offered by way of explanation.

Hotch furrowed his brow as he saw Reid react to the LEO's comment about JJ. And then breathed more easily when Reid apparently decided not to allow himself the distraction. The young man was, indeed, learning about their subject through his books. And that was too dear a task to be lost to petty annoyances.

But not for Hotch. "I assume you are referring to Supervisory Special Agent Jareau." Making certain to use her full title. "She did report to me on your role in yesterday's assessment."

Sometimes it wasn't necessary to spell things out in words. Guidry could tell from Hotch's tone that no hint of interference or questioning would be brooked today. Another day had gone by with no contact from William Reid. By anyone's definition, he was now officially 'missing'. And what they were examining in his home, could officially be looked upon as 'evidence'.

Reid continued his journey around the three walls of shelves, ending at the area that was vacant of books. Here, he found the collection of photographs and memorabilia, and his eye immediately settled on the photo of his own baseball team, taken so many years ago. He was standing at the end of a row of teammates, in front of William, his coach. And both were smiling.

Hotch read the wistful look on Reid's face, and joined him. "That's you?" There was a definite resemblance between the young boy in the picture and the young man standing next to him.

Reid nodded. "And that's my dad. It's funny. I haven't seen this picture in over twenty years, but just looking at it now brings the day right back to me. We'd lost the playoff game, but the coaches….my dad was one of them….had just promised us ice cream. And that made everything good again. We were…..happy. We were _happy_."

His voice was filled with the regret of knowing what had come after. The persistent incredulity that what had been so right had somehow gone so wrong. Wondering whether William had ever really been happy to be with his son, or whether it had all been for show.

Hotch heard Reid's words, and his tone, and all of the unstated questions that were too emotionally charged to be spoken. But he also realized something else.

"He kept the photograph, Reid. Framed. Displayed, where he could see it every day."

The young genius had been too reactive to notice the obvious. As the fact of William's attachment to the photograph penetrated, Reid squinted his lack of understanding.

"But why? Why would he treasure a memory when he could have had the real thing?"

That was the barb that would always hurt. No matter what signs of attachment they might find…..the photographs, the cyber-history of Reid's accomplishments on Williams' computer…..the fact was that he'd preferred a virtual son to the real one. And neither of the BAU men, their own lives so enriched through the love of their own sons, could fathom that.

Hotch could only shrug. "It's just an observation. But it means he still felt some kind of connection. Or wanted to."

_He could have had it any time he asked_ , thought Reid. And then felt a pang of guilt when he realized that William _had_ , essentially, asked, for several years now. And Reid had simply turned away. But he hadn't asked JJ to do the same. _Was that my way of keeping the possibility alive?_

He could feel the turmoil within, and knew he had to swallow it back down before it began to interfere with his ability to work the case. Acutely aware that Hotch was gauging his emotional state, Reid decided to move on.

"I want to see the bedroom. And the box that JJ found."

"Wait." Guidry spoke up. "Did you just say that the missing person is your father?"

The FBI agents exchanged glances before responding.

"Yes. He's my father." Deciding not to offer any further information.

Guidry had his hand on his radio, ready to call his superior. But he addressed a question to the senior FBI man first.

"How can you let him work this case, when he might be a suspect?" Knowing that domestic disputes were often at the root of missing persons cases, and even homicides.

Hotch gave the furrowed brow stare, fully intending any intimidation it might engender in Guidry.

"Call your Lieutenant, if you like. Agent Reid is not a suspect in this case. He was two thousand miles away when Mr. Reid went missing."

Guidry wasn't so sure now. Hand still on his radio, but having not triggered the call button, he said, simply, "Still…."

Reid was anxious to get at the journal he knew was in William's closet. "If it would make you feel better, you can come and watch me. You can even record my actions. But I'm going to the bedroom now."

He started down the hall, leaving Guidry no option but to follow. When the officer left the living room, Hotch pulled out his own phone and hit a button.

"JJ. Have our Vegas office run the paperwork. We'll need a warrant to take materials from William's condo...….No, nothing new. Not yet, anyway. But LVPD is aware of the relationship, and questioning whether Reid should be involved…...No, that's right. Technically, it's not a problem. But I don't want anyone second guessing down the road. So let's make it official...…He's all right…...Not yet, he just went to look at it now...….All right…...Yes...…and, let me know when the paperwork is ready."

He closed the call and moved down the hall. As he turned the corner into the bedroom, he first spotted Guidry, an astonished look on his face. And then followed the officer's eyes toward where Reid was sitting on the bed, holding a volume that appeared to be composed of handwritten script. The young genius was flipping pages at a mind-boggling pace.

When his peripheral vision caught the movement of his superior entering the room, Reid looked up at Hotch with troubled eyes.

"It's definitely one of her journals. And it's about Riley Jenkins."


	8. Chapter 8

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 8**

"Were you able to tell anything?"

Charles Jareau could hear the stress in his son-in-law's voice.

"Well, it looks to me like your mother used one or two volumes per year. I'm guessing that might have depended on how well she was feeling?"

On the other end of the connection, Reid sighed. "Probably. But not in the way you would think. I noticed, when I read through them before, that she was pretty prolific when she was most deluded. I think she believed she could be heard through her journals, in a way that she couldn't when she spoke."

He couldn't see Charles' nod of understanding. "So she got it out of her system by writing."

"Yes. And, somehow, I think she really thought people would believe her if it was on paper. Like it made it more legitimate. But that just shows how poorly she processed things. She wrote like someone else would read her journal. But I think I'm the only one who ever did, besides herself."

Although now he realized that someone else _had_ read at least one of those journals. William Reid. His father. Who'd taken one of them, and kept it for over twenty years.

"All right. Well, it's hard to tell if something is missing, since I can't go by the number of journals, and she didn't consistently record a date." Charles sounded frustrated about not being able to help.

"Don't worry about it. It's probably not that important. It's just….. I remember, when I read through them, thinking that she'd been too upset during the time of this particular journal. I noticed the incident was missing, but I assumed she'd chosen not to write about it. Now I have evidence to the contrary."

"Spencer, if you have the missing journal, why do you need me to go through the rest?"

This was hard to explain, but Reid knew instinctively that it was important. He needed to understand if his father had taken the journal at the time Diana was writing it, or at some later date. If the former, it might mean that William realized she'd written something that might implicate one or both of them in the crime that followed Riley Jenkins' murder. It might have meant he was being protective of Diana….or maybe he was just being protective of himself.

Reid wasn't at all sure, now, if he should have believed his parents when they'd banded together to tell him the story of what happened after Riley's killer was murdered. 

_She was so easily influenced. Maybe he made her lie to me._

If William had taken the journal much later, it might mean something very different. What, exactly, Reid didn't know. 

_I_ _doubt it was a memento of a marriage he couldn't wait to escape._ _Could he have been trying to protect her from being upset, if she read through it? Could he have been trying to protect me?_ R

eid rejected the latter thoughts outright. They didn't jell with his image of William.

He tried to give Charles a sanitized version of what he was thinking.

"I just need to figure out if he might have taken it close to the time she wrote it. If he did, there will be a substitute journal that seems out of synch with the others, like she had to start it over. If he took it a long time after she wrote it, there won't be any gap in her writing."

"You weren't able to tell, when you read through the journals before?"

"I knew there was a period of time she hadn't written about. I just thought she'd been too upset to write then. It never occurred to me that there might be a journal missing."

JJ and Reid hadn't shared the Riley Jenkins episode with her parents. There hadn't seemed a need to, and it was a generally traumatic memory for Reid to revisit. Still, his very perceptive father-in-law sensed the emotional tension in the young man.

"Son, I don't know the context of the missing information, but it's obvious that it's important to you. Now that you have the missing journal, just remember that it holds only words. It's hard to take things out of context. Try not to read anything into them that your mother may not have intended."

Reid was more grateful than his powerful vocabulary could ever express to have Charles Jareau in his life. That the man treated him as a son, and not simply as his daughter's husband, had been a completely unexpected gift, and one he treasured. Now he thanked Charles for the fatherly advice.

"I know, you're right. I'll be careful about it. It's just….."

The older man understood. "It's just that you need to use every available tool to find your father, I know. I'm sorry I haven't been of much help."

Reid rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, frustrated. He knew it would have been much easier for him to look through the other journals himself, but that wasn't an option just now.

"You're helping enough. Maybe if you could just look at the first entries in each one, you'll notice something. I'll finish reading through this one to see if it tells me anything new."

"All right, Spencer. I'll get right on it."

"Char….Dad? Are the kids there?" Reid still wasn't used to the eponym.

Charles heard the need in Reid's voice and understood. He sounded regretful when he answered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. Sandy took them to the park. She wanted to let me concentrate."

Despite being disappointed, Reid smiled. "Are you saying that somehow my children cause a lack of concentration?"

Now Charles laughed. "If not by their good looks, then by their volume. I swear Henry is teaching Rosie that the only setting on the loudness meter is 'high'."

The kids' father chuckled. "Yep. Those are my kids, all right. Tell them we'll call them tonight, okay?"

"Will do. I'll get busy with the journals again now, and call you if I find anything."

"Thanks…Dad."

* * *

Reid's pace was considerably slower than his usual 20,000 words per minute, as he pored through Diana's missing journal. He kept getting mired in her handwriting, which was reflective of the turmoil of that time.

As he'd read through the other journals a few years ago, Reid had been able to tell, even before the words turned to expressions of fear and paranoia, that they were about to. Diana's customarily fluent penmanship would become interrupted, the letters angular, the volume of ink erratic, as she pressed her pen more deeply into the paper _. It's the written version of staccato speech_ , he'd thought, recognizing one of the external symptoms of mental illness.

Diana's penmanship had often changed in quality up to a week before the delusions began. And it wouldn't settle back into its usual pattern until well after the delusions were gone. It was one of the ways Reid had come to better understand the extent of his mother's internal battle. He'd been very aware of its external manifestation. That, he'd lived with throughout all of his young life. But he'd not quite understood the internal struggle that preceded and followed each delusional episode.

_No wonder she was so exhausted all the time_ , he'd thought when he'd first read through the books. _No wonder she couldn't get out of bed._ In his adulthood, he'd felt the guilt of the young boy who'd chided his mother so often about this behavior.

The 'Riley Jenkins journal', as he'd come to think of it, was comprised almost entirely of the troubled penmanship. Between that, and his own emotional connection to that time, both in his childhood and his adulthood, Reid was moving through it at a frustratingly slow pace. He was only about a quarter of the way through when JJ returned to the precinct, Morgan right behind her.

"Hey….is that it?" She tipped her head toward the book.

"This is it. I can't believe I didn't realize there was a journal missing. I'd always just assumed she'd been too upset to write about it."

"How far did you get?"

When he didn't answer right away, JJ became concerned that he'd discovered something they hadn't known about before. "Spence?"

His shoulders went up and down with a large inhalation and exhalation.

"I'm not even up to Riley yet. Just…you know, she told me about this, but she dismissed it so quickly. I didn't even think to question it. But…well….she used to take me to the park, when she was having good days. When I was younger, there were a lot more days like that. And my dad used to be happy about it. I remember that. I think he thought she was taking me to play on the playground or something. But she wasn't. She'd bring me over to this area that had a few tables with chessboards, and we would play against each other."

He smiled, remembering something, and JJ asked him about it.

"It was just…she was this expert in medieval literature, you know? And she was teaching me chess. She said that it was really my dad who should be teaching me, because his side of the family was so good with math and science. But he wanted me to be 'normal'. He insisted I do the usual kid things. That's why he got me into Little League. And I guess he stayed in it himself."

"Didn't he realize your intelligence?" JJ had spent many an hour trying to form an accurate picture of the young Spencer Reid, and what he must have been like as a child. She'd been especially devoted to the task since Rosie had come into their lives.

"He did. And he respected it, I think. But….I don't know, but I've wondered. For such a long time, I only knew that he had a brother, and then his brother died. I didn't know…not until we were investigating this case," holding up the journal, "that Uncle Daniel had committed suicide. They found him in the desert, with a gunshot wound to his chest. That's all my Mom told me. I don't remember him, really, but I remember them talking about him. How he was a genius himself, how he had so much potential. And then he killed himself. So I wondered if Dad worried that I would be like him."

JJ nodded slowly, taking it in. "And he tried to make sure you weren't. So it was your Mom, the medieval lit professor, who taught you chess."

He snorted. "Exactly. And she turned it into a kind of story every time. What the knight would do to protect his queen. How the king would send his pawn to sacrifice his life."

"Chess as medieval drama?"

"Technically, I think it was allegory. And yes, that was Mom. She made everything different….better…when she was healthy."

It was so rare to hear him recount any happy memories of his childhood. JJ savored the moment.

"So she was responsible for your love of chess?"

"Mm-hmm. I guess I probably would have found it anyway, but she got me started."

"And Gideon taught you to master it." JJ remembered their former colleague's delight in teaching, and especially in besting, his protégé.

Reid shook his head. "I think I was mostly self-taught. It was just different with Gideon. With my Mom, it was all about saving the King and Queen, and the relationships among all the pieces. With Gideon, it was all about the checkmate—it was all about the kill."

As soon as she heard him say it, she recognized the truth. The relationship between Gideon and Reid had always put her on edge, and he'd just put words to part of the reason why. Gideon's investment in Reid had been egotistical, not emotional. And the relationship between the two had never been entirely healthy. Just as the relationship between Reid and William. Which brought her thoughts back to the issue at hand.

"So, did you talk to Dad?"

Reid explained the situation with Charles. "He'll call me back if he figures anything out. I just wish I could look at them myself. I think I'd know, now that I know to look for it."

"Does it really make all that much difference, Spence?"

He knew what she meant. He had the 'missing' journal, and the information it contained, after all. But, for whatever reason, he felt like he needed to understand the circumstances of William having taken it, and, it seemed, hidden it. Like understanding would tell him something about the man his father was. 

_I_ _s_ , he corrected himself. _We don't know that anything's happened to him. Remember that, genius._

Instead of answering, he changed the subject. "How did it go with the victim's daughter?"

"Okay, I guess." JJ and Morgan had met Davidovitch's daughter at his home. "She didn't seem as upset as I might have thought, considering what happened to her father. But they weren't all that close, according to her."

"I'd say that was true, considering she hadn't even spoken to him in the past six months." Morgan brought his cup of coffee over and joined them.

JJ defended the young mother. "Well, her father was retired, wasn't he? He could have gone to see her at any time. And she was pregnant, he shouldn't have expected her to travel to him."

"I didn't get the sense that she was all that broken up about not seeing him, did you?"

JJ considered it. "No, I guess not. It was more like she realized it was the holidays, and she hadn't gotten the usual gift. But I had the sense that she felt a little guilty, thinking that she hadn't even noticed he was missing."

"For all we know, he wasn't. We only know that six months ago was the last time any of our current witness list can say they saw him or spoke with him."

JJ shook her head. "What a lonely life. To be so…..inconsequential…..that no one notices whether or not you're there. No one even thinks about you."

Just after she'd said it, she realized she'd used the word Rossi had used to describe William Reid. _Inconsequential_. And she made a personal vow that, should it not already prove to be too late, she would never let those words apply to her husband's father again.

_Even if Spence thinks he's not ready. We can't let it happen to someone in our family, black sheep or not. You'll be glad about it one day. Won't you, Spence?_

In her peripheral vision, she could see Hotch hurrying over, phone in hand. When he reached them, he seemed to hesitate a moment, looking back and forth among his profilers. Finally, he seemed to settle on a decision.

"Morgan, Reid…I need you in the field. Another set of remains has been found, also in the desert, about ten miles from the original victim's."

JJ opened her mouth to volunteer, to save Reid from what he might see. But Hotch preempted her.

"I need the two of you to compare the location with where the other body was found. I'm sorry….."

"It's all right, Hotch. I can do it."

Morgan was impressed that Reid's words sounded convincing. But, just in case, he sent his unit chief a look before leaving.

_I've got him._

* * *


	9. Chapter 9

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 9**

"Hotch, do you really think…." JJ whirled to face her unit chief as she watched her husband leave with Morgan.

"I have no choice, JJ. I need his eyes on the location. Especially his. He knows the desert better than any of the rest of us."

"But, what if….."

"I gave him the option to walk away from this case, and he refused it," Hotch started out sternly, but then quickly deflated, acknowledging his shared concern. "Morgan will be there for him, if he needs support."

"But couldn't I…"

He gave her a meaningful look. "I think you already know the answer to that."

She did. Reid would have an easier time maintaining a professional stance if he didn't have his wife at his side to support him. It was a paradox unique to their particular situation.

Acknowledging the truth, JJ sank into the chair vacated by her husband.

"I guess I may as well finish what he started then."

She picked up Diana's missing journal, and offered a brief plea to her absent mother-in-law before she began to read the words the woman had written so long ago.

_I promised you I would take care of him. But now I need you to do the same. Please._

* * *

Prentiss and Rossi arrived to the strip mall that housed the law office of missing tax attorney Max Maxfield well before any of the local establishments were open. They'd wanted to watch the employees arrive, and get a feel for the environment, before probing them on their employer.

"Okay, you can thank me now," said Emily.

"Thank you?"

"For insisting we stop for coffee on the way. This is a sleepy town at this hour of the morning."

Rossi laughed. "That's just because it only quieted down a couple of hours ago. If New York is the city that doesn't sleep, Vegas is the city that sleeps in."

Emily chuckled at that. "Sounds like my kind of place." She took a sip of her coffee before inquiring. "Do you have a gut feeling about this? Do you think this guy is the victim?" They'd been advised of the newly found body in the desert.

Rossi shook his head. "I'm not sure. I don't think we can assume anything. I don't even think we can assume he's a victim at all. These tax attorneys out here…..they're a dime a dozen, and they're not all legit. There's a better than even chance that he's just run off with someone's fortune."

Emily took that in, and continued sipping as she watched a few of the emporia begin to open.

"What do you think about Reid's dad, then? Is he a money-grubber, or is he legit?"

Her companion shrugged. "Hard to say. He seemed to be involved with city government…..he thought we were there investigating something to do with the mayor's office, a few years ago…..so….."

"So that could either make him more likely to be legitimate….or he's into another type of scheme."

"Exactly. He didn't seem particularly put off or surprised that the FBI was at his door, even before he realized we were there with his son."

"So, do you think he was expecting to be investigated, back then? For completely different reasons?"

"He definitely gave off that vibe. But after we cleared up that he wasn't involved in the Riley Jenkins murder, or the one that followed, I never thought to check on it."

Emily was lost in thought for another moment. "I'll bet Reid did. I'll bet he made sure to know everything about his father after that."

"Reid didn't know. He wasn't with us when his dad mentioned it. Unless Morgan told him, I don't think he knows."

"Don't you think he should know now?" Emily had already reached for her phone.

Rossi waved her hand down. "Not now, my friend. I'm afraid he may have much more on his mind just at the moment."

* * *

"Dehydration?" Reid spoke his surprise into the speaker of his cell. "Are they sure?"

Before Hotch could answer, Morgan shouted from the driver's seat, "Isn't every dead body found in the desert dehydrated?"

Hotch had been as surprised as his teammates to hear the ME's report on the cause of death of Stephen Davidovitch.

"The ME said it showed up in the internal organs. Shrinking and discoloration of the kidneys, damage to the bladder."

Reid was still having trouble taking it in. "Could he say if the tongue was removed before or after he died?"

Just because the cause of death was dehydration, he didn't want to assume there hadn't also been an assault beforehand.

"He thinks the tongue was severed first. Obviously, the heart was removed afterward." Or else its removal would have been the cause of death.

"He _thinks_ it? He isn't sure?" Reid realized it as a crucial point of information.

"He's not willing to commit on that. The external dehydration of the tongue, and the damage from the sun, make it hard for him to be sure."

They didn't need to discuss it. All of them knew that the removal of the tongue before the victim's death made it a homicide. The removal after death made it the mutilation of a body...the body of a man who might have wandered into the desert on his own, and met an unfortunate fate. Or the body of someone who might have been brought there, and left to die. But they would have a much harder time proving the latter.

Reid shook his head in frustration, but didn't express it to his unit chief.

"All right. We're just about to be out of cell range. We're meeting up with Trooper Bell again, and he'll take us to the site. We'll get back to you as soon as we're back in range."

"We're good here, Hotch," added Morgan, by way of signing off…and sending an additional message to his unit chief.

Reid let a few miles go by before remarking, "You don't have to look out for me, you know."

Morgan threw him a look.

"I know." _Right._

* * *

' _There are so many things that can hurt a child. My child. My heart. Increasingly, I realize that I'm one of them. But not today. Today I found my poor boy with a much more immediate danger. I knew it, somehow. I could sense it. I literally ran to the park. I must have looked like a wild woman. But I knew, with every fiber of my being, that Spencer was in trouble. I feel like I have that kind of connection with him, and I often wonder if he feels it about me. I prayed with every step, that he would be there, safe and whole, when I arrived. And he was. God is so often turning His back on me these days. But not today. Spencer was there, at one of the chessboards, playing against a young man._

_At first, I looked around for the danger, not understanding. But then it came to me. The danger was sitting at the board with him. That young man's eyes gave him away. So lurid. And looking at my son that way. My son! I know I frightened Spencer, but I couldn't see another way. I grabbed him by the hand and ran him out of the park, and all the way home. The poor thing. He looked so lost, and confused. He's such a smart little boy, I know he's aware there's something wrong with me. If my behavior hasn't told him, the loud disagreements with William must. What will become of him? Of me? Of us?'_

JJ lifted her head and rubbed her eyes. This particular journal was so filled with crisis and emotion that it was taxing just to read through it. 

_How can she have lived it? And Spence!_

The implication of Diana's writing was clear to anyone who knew the succeeding history. The pedophile who'd abused and then killed Riley Jenkins had targeted Spencer Reid first.

_Who knows what might have happened if she hadn't had that intuition, and acted on it?_

JJ's entire life would have been different. She wouldn't have had Reid in it, nor Rosie. Nor the kind of love she'd never even known to wish for. _Thank you, Diana._

JJ brewed herself a cup of tea and then returned to the conference table, intent on finishing her reading. But she was disturbed by the vibration of her cell.

"Dad? Hi."

"Hello, Pumpkin. How's my girl today?"

_Glad she didn't put you on speaker. Pumpkin._ But JJ was actually fond of the name, and touched that her father still used it.

"I'm good, Dad. What's up? Something with the kids?"

"The kids are fine. We sent Rosie to Karen's, so your mother could do some grocery shopping, and Henry's at school. I called because I think I found what Spencer wanted."

"Oh, in the journals. You found evidence that one was interrupted?"

"Yes. It was buried about twenty pages in…..I hope Spencer doesn't mind that I read that much of it."

Charles Jareau was already very fond of his son-in-law, but had gained a deepened respect for the young man after Diana's journals had given him a glimpse into the nature of the young life Spencer had weathered.

"Of course not, Dad. He asked you to look through them. "

"All right. I just didn't want to be invading his privacy….."

"His life…and his Mom's….are part of our history together, Dad. He's okay with it. I think he kind of wishes you'd met her. I know I do. Even when she was ill, she was impressive."

Thousands of miles away, Charles smiled. "I definitely get that. And I'll look forward to learning even more about her."

An idea started to form in the back of JJ's mind, but she squelched it. _It's not the right time._

Aloud, she said, "So what did you find?"

"She makes a reference to her mind becoming a sieve. And to some blackouts she'd been having. This is all part of a passage she wrote explaining why she had to start a new journal. But it reads like she thinks she might have actually destroyed the missing one."

JJ was surprised at that. "She doesn't just think she lost it? She thinks she destroyed it?"

"I can't be sure, because some of her writing is rather confused at this point. But it almost sounded like her husband chided her, reminding her that she'd destroyed the journal."

JJ was quiet a moment, taking it in. It was sounding like William had taken, and hidden, Diana's journal, and then tried to convince her she'd purposely gotten rid of it. Almost like he was gaslighting her. _But…why?_

She sighed. "All right, Dad, thanks. I'll tell Spence when he gets back." This wasn't quite something for a phone conversation.

"How is he, Honey?"

"I'll have to let you know, Dad. Hotch sent him out with Morgan. They found another body."

Charles had the same reaction his daughter had, hours before.

"Why didn't…."

She gave the same answer Hotch had given her. "We needed Spence to look at the site. He'd been at the first one, and he's more familiar with the desert than the rest of us." Even if he'd been a city boy most of his time in Vegas.

Charles' voice reflected his concern and regret. "Please tell him we're pulling for him. Tell him we're all praying hard."

She smiled, knowing it was true. "Thanks, Dad."

JJ had barely ended the call when Hotch came back into the room, holding his phone in his hand.

"I'm with JJ now. Go ahead."

The quality of Reid's voice told them he was just barely in range of a cell tower. It kept going in and out.

"….not him. It's not my dad."


	10. Chapter 10

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 10**

"It was the same mutilation. Part of the tongue was missing, and it looked like there were bite marks."

Reid's words were clearer now, as he and Morgan made their way back to the precinct.

"What about the heart?" Hotch wanted to be certain how much of the first body's condition had been signature.

"Gone. But no tissue left behind, so we don't know if the unsub was eating it. The evidence guys at the site thought this body was fresher than the last one, but the weather might still have an effect on the pathology."

JJ directed her voice at the speaker on Hotch's phone. "Any ID?"

Morgan took that one. "In his pocket. Wallet had a license that belongs to Jerome Farrell."

The other missing IRS employee. They definitely had a serial on their hands, and it seemed that the likely connection among his victims had to do with taxes. But they still couldn't tell if he was only going after the IRS, or if he might have been including others who worked in a related field, like their two missing tax attorneys.

"All right," said Hotch. "Come back in. We'll give the ME time to work, and Reid can get back to the journal."

JJ cleared her throat to interrupt her unit chief. She looked an apology for insubordination as she spoke. "Actually, maybe I can finish the journal and summarize it for Spence. Don't we need him to work with Garcia to look at his father's cases?"

Neither man remarked on it, but both Reid and Hotch realized she was trying to divert her husband's attention from something that might be emotionally taxing for him. Both respected her for it, and both trusted her judgment.

"Good idea," they said, almost simultaneously.

* * *

Following up on Rossi's first meeting with the man, Emily and Rossi gave Garcia the task of looking into whether William Reid's law firm, or the man himself, had ever been part of an investigation into political wrongdoing.

"Make that any kind of investigation at all, Garcia." Prentiss amended the instruction.

"Will do, my doves."

As they waited, the two profilers watched the strip mall come to life. When more than an hour had passed with no sign of life at Max Maxfield's law office, they began to wonder if they'd come on a fool's errand.

"Didn't they tell us the office was still open, even though Maxfield was missing?"

"Well," Rossi was sardonic, "there's 'open' and there's 'open'."

"Meaning what, exactly?"

"Meaning 'when the cat's away, the mice will play'."

Emily frowned. "Well, aren't you just a bundle of adages this morning."

Rossi tapped his temple. "The wisdom of age. Look at where we are. We're at a law office in a Vegas strip mall. Better yet, a tax lawyer's office. In Vegas. Where the bulk of his clientele were probably seniors trying to stretch their retirement dollars, or gambling addicts trying to write off debt. This guy Maxfield was probably barely getting by, and this was all he could afford. Whatever help he had in the office is probably phoning it in from their new job. At the very least, they'll be taking their time opening the door."

Emily considered that for a moment. "You're probably right. Except for one thing. If he's been gone for three months already, how can they still be paying rent on this place, let alone paying someone to keep the office open? Where's the money coming from?"

"Exactly what we need to find out." Rossi opened his phone and hit a speed dial number. "Penelope? We have another job for you."

* * *

When the two men returned to the precinct, Morgan went to join Hotch in a meeting with the leader of a newly formed task force, while Reid sought out JJ in the conference room.

"Bad, huh?" He asked, without preamble.

She knew exactly what he meant. "Nothing you don't already know about. But I thought it wouldn't be all that helpful to read through it just now."

He got it. "You want me to keep my head in the game, right?"

She smiled. "Right. And there will be plenty of time to go through it after."

_After the case is over. After we know if William is dead or alive_. Both sets of thoughts had gone in the same direction at once.

Reid heaved a deep breath. "All right. I guess I'll call Garcia and get busy on the cases."

JJ leaned up and kissed him, grateful for his trust in her, so securely placed. "I love you. In case you didn't know."

He turned the other cheek and pointed at it. "I think I need more convincing." Which she provided.

* * *

"It was Tammy, wasn't it?"

"It was Tawny. Her name was Tawny."

Rossi couldn't be sure if Prentiss was rolling her eyes at his getting the name wrong, or at the very name itself. But then he heard her add, "It should have been Bleached Blondie." And he was sure.

He smiled at his brunette colleague. "You have something against blondes? JJ's a blonde", he pointed out helpfully. "So is Garcia."

"But they have brains. This one….she was the stereotypical gum-smacking secretary of every bad detective novel." Emily Prentiss hated when anyone lived up to a bad stereotype.

"Ah. Well, stereotypes get developed for a reason, don't they?"

"Yeah. Reasons like Tawny. So, what did you think?"

"I think that, even if Maxfield is into something he shouldn't be, he hasn't shared it with her."

"I agree. Not that I think she could understand it, even if he did tell her."

"Hmm. I think we're gonna have to look at the books. If there's been an allegation against him, there's probably a warrant that makes his records available. And we can talk with the people who think he ran off with their money."

Emily realized there was a limitation as to how helpful that would be.

"We can talk to the people who complained to the police. But what about if there's a client who decided to leave out the middleman and take things into his own hands?"

Rossi nodded his acknowledgement. "For that, we'll need to dig into the records. Good thing we've got a speed reader on our team."

* * *

"Okay, sweet genius, I'll have you into their system in just a few more clicks. As I expected, they've put an extra security alert on there, and I can keep it quiet for a few loops, but that causes is to eat more CPUs, and that triggers another alert in the system, so…."

"I understand, Garcia. I need to be fast. Thanks."

They'd figured out that, if he used a tablet to read through the records, he could employ the fingering technique that helped him read books at 20,000 words per minute.

A smile crossed JJ's face as she watched him, hunched over in his chair, tablet in hand, a warrior prepared for the type of battle that only he could wage. _My hero._

"Three, two, one….here we go!"

They were in the system. Garcia did some initial probing, and found the cases primarily handled by William, starting with the most recent date. Reid would go backwards with them for as long as Garcia felt it was safe, and then she would break the link. They would repeat the process as often as necessary.

JJ eased away from her husband and left the conference room, closing the door softly behind her. She put a finger to her lips when she saw Emily and Rossi heading her way.

"Shh. He's just getting going."

Emily watched through the window, her usual look of amazement at the skills of Spencer Reid evident on her face.

"How's he doing? Thank God it wasn't his father." They'd been alerted in the field.

"He's doing. I think it helps him to be busy."

Rossi grunted. "Well, then, he can thank us. We just found another office full of records for him to read through."

He explained their meeting with Tawny at Max Maxfield's office, ending with, "and Agent Prentiss found her too….blonde…for her taste."

"What! I did not! She was just too…..you know," she shrugged, "…. _bleached_ blonde."

JJ couldn't keep up the mock indignation. She'd joined her friends in laughter when Morgan and Hotch approached them from across the precinct's main room.

"What's the joke?"

"Nothing." In triplicate.

"All right, be that way. How's Pretty Boy doing in there?" Morgan nodded his chin in the direction of the conference room.

"He just got started. Garcia doesn't think he'll be able to stay in all that long. She found another security alarm installed since yesterday. She's pretty sure they know we want to look."

Emily didn't understand the reluctance on the part of William's office. "I thought they liked him over there. Why wouldn't they want to help?"

Morgan's background in law helped him understand. "They're more worried about their clients suing them for violating lawyer/client confidentiality. On the other hand, the office could always just let the security lapse for a little bit, and let us in, and no one would have to be the wiser."

Hotch responded to that one. "I had the sense the senior partner is the one insisting on it. It seems he's a bit of a stickler…."

"Or maybe he's not such a fan of William," suggested Rossi.

Hotch agreed with his old friend. "He may well be trying to protect some information. But I didn't get the sense he would offer to do anything to protect William."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, JJ watched as Reid sat back and closed his tablet. Obviously the connection had been broken. She knocked softly before entering the conference room.

"So…..how did it go?"

Reid rubbed at both eyes with his thumb and middle finger.

"I got through six months worth of files. He didn't seem to have any cases in common with either of our two IRS victims, and I didn't see Maxfield's name anywhere. There were some family disputes described in a few files…heirs fighting over an estate tax, or a refund. But no disputes directly with my dad. Although…well….there was one kind of odd thing."

"What?"

"It was a scanned document. It looked like it should have come from one of the family feud cases, but it was in its own folder. It was a note that said, "It happened before. It can happen again. Remember that." It just didn't seem to fit in with the other information in that file."

"Sounds vaguely threatening. Do you think it was directed at your dad?"

"That's the thing. It's hard to say. It would have made sense in one of the other files, if maybe a family member had received it from one of their rivals. But it didn't seem to be connected to anything. It was just there on its own."

"Hmm, " mused JJ. "And it's electronic. I don't suppose there's any chance they saved the actual note? You know, for prints, or to maybe identify the paper stock."

He shrugged in frustration. "Don't know. And there's not really any way we can ask. We weren't supposed to be looking at it."

* * *

The ME's report was similar to that of the first victim. The cause of death was dehydration, the bite marks on the tongue were human, but did not belong to the victim. But, with the very slightly fresher status of the remains, the ME could be certain that the tongue had been removed before the victim died.

"So it's definitely murder. And we definitely have a serial, " concluded Morgan.

"Could he say how long the body had been out there?" Reid wanted to establish a timeline that included the presumed dates of the disappearances, the deaths, and the discoveries of the bodies.

Hotch had spoken directly with the medical examiner. "As with the first one, the condition of the body made it hard to establish a time of death. He's fairly certain it's been over two weeks, but can't be more specific than that."

Emily sat back as she expelled a breath through pursed lips. "So we can't know if the unsub held them for a period of time before he killed them."

It was a crucial point. Especially if the unsub had taken William Reid. It made all the difference between holding out hope that he could still be found alive, and resigning themselves to the idea that he was already dead.

Reid understood it all too well. His fingers traced invisible circles on the table as he spoke.

"It's funny. I always used to wonder if some of our victims' families wouldn't rather be able to believe that their missing member would come home one day. If it was better not to know. Now….."

Rossi, sitting nearest him, reached over and patted Reid on the back.

"You'll know, Spencer. We'll find him, and you'll know."


	11. Chapter 11

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 11**

Much of the afternoon was taken up with a meeting of the newly formed inter-agency task force. With the discovery of the second IRS body, and without any confirmed relationship to the missing tax attorneys, the sense of urgency had died down. But the BAU trusted the dedication of their Vegas FBI counterparts, as well as that of the state and local police. The urgency may have waned, but the task force would work every lead, and remain vigilant for more.

For a particular member of the BAU, the sense of urgency continued. When the rest of the task force broke for an evening meal, Reid stood along with them. But then he turned to his wife and whispered, "You go ahead. Get something. I need to see that journal."

Expecting her to follow his suggestion, he'd already started to head in the direction of the conference room. And then he heard, "Oh, no, you don't."

"Huh?"

"Spence, you barely slept last night, and now you haven't eaten a thing all day. Right?"

"We were busy. And I wasn't all that hungry."

Mentally realizing that the inevitable had finally happened…. _Yes, I now officially sound just like my mother_ ….JJ chided him.

"You still need to eat. Your brain needs fuel, doesn't it?" Appealing to what she was sure would motivate him to comply.

She knew her husband well. He went for it.

"Well…..can you bring me something? Or order something in? Really, JJ, I need…."

With a smile, she relented. "I know you do. And I'll order us something for here. I just…"

He knew his wife well, too. "You don't want me to be alone when I read it."

Her eyes were apologetic, while she nodded her assent. "It's nothing new, like I said, but…. I don't know…for me, it was a whole different thing knowing about it, and reading it in your mother's voice. It was like her fear was palpable."

He knew what she meant. It had permeated all of Diana's other journals as well, especially when her illness made its presence known.

"It's okay. I'm glad you'll be here." He squeezed her hand in thanks, and they momentarily went their separate ways. She, to see about nourishment, he, to have another vicarious encounter with his mother.

Alone in the conference room, Reid picked up his mother's hidden journal and, as he had with each of the others, caressed it. She had left so little behind, having been stripped of nearly everything in life by the failing of her brain. The leather-bound books were nearly all he had to remind himself of her.

He closed his eyes for a moment, conjuring a favorite memory….his mother, lying in bed, relaxed, pen flowing over the page. He knew he was only privy to her writing on her good days. On the bad, she banished him from her room. As a boy, he hadn't realized she'd been writing even on those ugly days and evenings. But as a man, he'd come to see that she'd continued to pour out whatever was inside her at the time. Disheveled writing and ink blots, even the occasional ripping of a page, gave it away. But nothing ever quite moved him as much as those pages where there was a thinning of the fibers, a near-transparency that he knew would have been made by her fallen tears.

At William's apartment, he'd bypassed his usual ritual and gone straight for the content, so anxious to know what his father had tried to keep hidden. Now, he opened the book slowly, almost reverently. He'd already been through all of the other volumes. This was the last 'virgin' contact between himself and his mother. It seemed to want to be relished.

JJ came back just as he began turning pages. "I got us some Italian, is that okay?"

He didn't even look up as he mumbled, "As long as I can eat it with a fork, anything is good."

"Are you just getting started?"

"Mm-hmm.."

Correctly gleaning that he wanted to read uninterrupted, JJ found the biographical case file on William Reid and started thumbing through it.

_What a way to 'meet' my father-in-law._

She looked at his official office web site photo, and then copies of the ones that had been taken with his Little League teams. She was poignantly reminded of Henry's new-found love of baseball, and wondered, for a moment, what it would have been like for her son to have learned the game from his grandfather. She even wondered, briefly, if the love of the game might be a genetic trait. And then had to remind herself, not for the first time, that Spence wasn't Henry's biological father. _He may as well be, they love each other so._ But she offered a mental apology to Will, anyway.

JJ looked for evidence of her husband in William's face. _Not his smile. That's more like Diana's. Maybe the eyes? There's a certain intelligence there._

And, she realized, a certain evidence of burden, one she'd often seen in Spence's eyes in the past, now largely gone. It had faded, achingly slowly, as she and Henry had made their way into his life, and then it had disappeared almost completely when Rosie arrived. Now she only saw it when life became challenging. _Like now._

She read through the information that had been compiled, much of it by Garcia. The oldest of two sons. Parents died fifteen years ago, within a few days of each other. _Wonder what that was about? And why in the world they didn't seek out their grandson in all of that time._ Resenting them, without even knowing them, on her husband's behalf.

But then she found something that might serve as an explanation. _Oh, no. They lost their son._

Daniel. William's younger brother, a suicide, while he was still in graduate school. So young. _And so violent!_ The COD on the death certificate read "gunshot wound to the head". And then she noticed the location….

JJ raised her head to say something, but became mute when she saw Reid staring out the window, clearly lost in some distant thought. He looked so troubled.

"Spence?"

She had to repeat herself before he responded. "What is it?"

She'd read any number of worrisome things in the journal, but couldn't know what had triggered his reaction.

He lowered his gaze to the table. "The park. The chess boards. I remember. I flashed on it for a moment when we reopened the case…..but now I actually remember. I can see him. And I can remember my mom coming to the park, and pulling me away. I can see him…."

Him. The man who'd sexually abused, and then murdered, Riley Jenkins. And who might well have had his sights set on Spencer Reid before that.

She reached across the table and laid her hand on his. "Nothing happened to you…right? He never got the chance…..right?" Hoping that his reaction was only to what might have been, and not to an actual memory.

"Nothing happened. It's just….. I remember him, now. I remember that I liked him. He treated me like an adult. And even though I was only a little kid…..well, I was so different from the other kids my age….I was grateful for it. I never even thought…"

"How could you? What child would suspect that an adult would do that?"

He nodded. She was right. "But….I thought his treating me like an adult was a good thing. I never even thought it might be for a different reason. And now…..now, I guess I can see how it works. How these guys get into kids' heads. Because he was definitely in mine."

It was a hazard of the business they were in. Any parent might wonder if their child could one day be lured by a predator. But JJ and Reid could actually picture it. They could see the act, and know what followed. And what followed after that. They'd seen too many dead children to pretend otherwise. Now, Reid was saying, he knew exactly what it felt like. Why a child would succumb. And it frightened them once again, for their own children, and all of the others.

JJ's shiver in response to the thought caught Reid's attention.

"We know better. We can teach them. It will never happen." He turned his hand under hers, so he could squeeze her fingers.

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Their food had arrived.

"I vote for a nutrition break. What do you say, Spence?"

He really wanted to continue his reading, but he could hear it in her voice. She needed some normalcy just now.

"I say I'm famished. And I am so fortunate to be married to a woman who knows how to order out."

"Ha! I'll never be as good at it as Emily," she said, acknowledging the team's take-out queen.

She spooned spaghetti and meatballs onto a couple of plates, and then filled the empty space with salad.

"Wish I'd ordered some wine to go with it."

Reid gave her his best attempt at a leer. "Are you trying to ply me with liquor, Madam?"

"I wish. For now, I'll ply you with pasta. But when we get back to the hotel, all bets are off."

Both of them dug into their meals, JJ with a bit more gusto than her husband. The case was definitely taking a toll on him emotionally and, she thought, there was every sign that it would take a physical toll as well. She decided some distraction was in order.

"Hey," she said, as she cleaned her plate, "do you know what time it is?"

Reid checked. "Almost 5:30." It took a moment to sink in. "Oh! That means it's almost 8:30 at home…..we'd better call."

She smiled. "Yep. Let's see if we can video chat from the computer in here." She went to a desk in the corner of the room. "Oh, great…we can. Come on over."

He joined her in front of the web cam and she punched in their home number. Within seconds, they saw a familiar blond head and heard, "Hi Mommy! Hi Daddy!"

"Hey, Little Man!" Both parents responded at once. Then JJ continued, "Where is everybody?"

"Meme and Papa are giving Rosie her bath. I already took mine….see, all clean!" He held up two pristine palms to the camera.

"Ahem…" said his mother, who knew her son well, "what about your feet?"

Henry nearly fell off the seat trying to bring his soles up for the camera. "All clean too, Mommy! Meme 'minded me."

JJ stole a sideways look at Reid. The worry lines were easing from his face, as they did with nearly every interaction with their children. And, as usually happened, his mouth was spread into a wide grin.

"Do I hear the dulcet tones of little Miss Rosie Posie in the background?"

Henry didn't know anything about 'dulcet', but he knew Rosie. "Here she comes."

It seemed like their daughter's face was comprised solely of nostrils, as she came so close to the camera lens and stayed there. "Mama! Daddy! I here!"

Reid made a mental note. _Uses pronouns. That's early!_

Henry was becoming eerily facile with all things electronic. He saw how Rosie's face looked on their parents' screen, and pulled her back.

"Like this, Rosie. You have to sit back, so they can see you."

Adult hands entered the screen now, and situated Rosie on Henry's lap.

"Dad? Is that you?"

Charles Jareau briefly put his face in the camera's sight line. "Yes, I'm here, Pumpkin. How are things going there?"

"They're going. It's a bit slow, but we're making a little progress." None of the adults would say much in front of the children.

"Well, I guess that's good. And Spencer, how are you holding up?"

Reid could almost see Henry's antennae going up. He was a very bright child and, unfortunately, wise in the ways of the world. There was ongoing concern about the effects all of his early life traumas would have on him, but no way to avoid the fact that they'd happened. Without really understanding how or why, Henry had become attuned to the emotions of the adults around him. Whether as a defense mechanism, or for some other reason, he had developed the habit of honing in on those subtle and not-so-subtle conversations. Reid saw that he was doing so now.

"I'm fine," he blustered. "This is a homecoming trip for me." As they all knew, all too well.

JJ picked up the theme. "You know, I've been thinking that maybe we should make a family trip out here some day. Dad, you and Mom might like to see some of the shows. And the kids can see where their dad grew up."

Henry was sufficiently distracted by that. "Can we? Can we, Mom? Daddy, can we go on a trip?" In his enthusiasm, he'd almost dumped Rosie from his lap.

"Yay!" said the youngest Reid, not quite sure what the excitement was about, but happy to partake of it.

Reid laughed at both of the kids. "We'll see. Maybe when this case is over, if we can manage some leave."

"Yay!" Henry agreed with Rosie.

The kids were a little too pumped for bed, so there was no possibility of having an adults-only conversation. Goodnights were exchanged all around, and JJ promised her father another call, later on, "If we can."

"Understood. You take care of each other, all right?"

"We will. You and Mom, too. And please give her our love when she gets back from the Y."

After they'd ended the call, Reid mused to JJ, "Wow, your dad takes up golf, and your mom takes up yoga. Who knows what retirement might have in store for us?"

"Hmph. It better have sun, sand and surf in store, or I'm not retiring."

"Well, Vegas has plenty of sun and sand." He thought a moment more. "Do you really want to bring the family out here?"

"Sure, why not? They've been to Pennsylvania, they've seen my roots. And they know my parents. I'd like them to know something about where their dad came from too. Wouldn't you?"

She couldn't be sure. Maybe his memories were too unhappy. Maybe they were too….private….to be shared. As much as he'd learned to open up, sometimes Spence was still a little like that.

"Well…..sure, I guess. I just….well, what's there in Vegas for kids? I mean, besides Circus Circus?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. We could show them the house where you lived, where you went to school. There are museums, aren't there? And the desert…you probably take it for granted, because you grew up around it. But the desert is…well, it's the desert."

He squinted at her now. "Have you ever been there?"

"To the desert? Well….no, not really. I've seen it, on the ride in from the airport. But I've never actually been in it." She shivered again. "It's a little eerie, isn't it? It's so …big."

He gave her a look. "I thought it was woods. Now you're telling me you're afraid of the desert, too?"

She dismissed the idea. "Not afraid. Just…..intimidated, I guess."

His face told her he'd made up his mind about something.

"For someone who grew up around here, I didn't spend all that much time in the desert. Life was too challenging in town. But that doesn't mean I wasn't there at all. I managed a few trips, mostly on my own. And it was…it was.." his eyes wandered, in search of the right word, "….it was awe-ful. Awe-inspiring. I think it was where I first fell in love with the stars." Now he looked directly at JJ. "I want to share that with you. And I want to share it with the kids."

JJ leaned into her husband and kissed him. "Then let's do it. Let's have Mom and Dad bring them out here, as soon as this case is ov…"

She cut herself off, and looked sheepishly into his eyes, seeing in them the same sense of guilt. They'd both been so caught up in the moment that they'd forgotten. The case being 'over' might very well mean that they'd found William's body. And then the family would be visiting Vegas for a very different reason.


	12. Chapter 12

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 12**

He bolted awake, his biological clock chiming loudly. After Reid fumbled for his glasses, he could make out the time on the digital clock. 7:13. The morning meeting of the task force was scheduled for 7:30.

He could hear movement in the bathroom, and called out.

"JJ… how long have you been up?"

She walked into their room fastening an earring. "Long enough to have been for a run already, Sleepyhead."

He was already rushing by her, headed for the shower. "Why didn't you wake me?"

She had to raise her voice to be heard over the running water. "I thought you needed the rest. You didn't exactly sleep soundly last night."

He was already toweling off by the time he replied. "But I wanted to talk to Hotch about the desert…"

"Already called him. He wants the team to meet after the task force meeting."

"Did he say anything about me going out there?"

"You, Morgan and Emily."

He stopped in the middle of rubbing his hair dry. "Three of us?"

"He didn't exactly say it, but I got the feeling he's not convinced the cases are related. He wants you and Morgan to go, to compare it to the other sites. And he wants Emily as a fresh set of eyes."

"Does that mean he thinks there might be something to….."

"I don't know. But he knows that you need to put it to rest. So he's giving you the chance. I think we should just be happy about that."

She looked him up and down, smiling. "And, not that I don't appreciate the view, but…..maybe you should put some clothes on."

* * *

His hair paid the price for Reid's being only a few minutes late for the task force meeting. Emily barely concealed a grin at the sight of the dishevelment on top of his head.

The police contingent would focus on following up on any crime scene evidentiary results that were forthcoming, but little was expected to be produced today. They would, therefore, also take on the task of finding overlap in cases between the two deceased IRS agents, and look for any similar connections with either of the missing tax attorneys. Hotch assigned Garcia to be as helpful to those tasks as her electronic network would permit.

JJ and Rossi would compare the dead IRS agents' personal profiles, and then look for any similarities or connections with the tax attorneys. Maxfield's cases were still off limits, but Reid would make another covert entry into his father's case files. But not until he returned from the desert.

As the task force broke to go about their varied duties, Hotch held his team back.

"Short BAU meeting, then we'll get going on our assignments."

Most of them grabbed coffee, and then settled around the conference table. Emily smiled as she watched JJ run her fingers through Reid's hair, in a thinly-veiled attempt to tame it.

Once they were settled, Hotch turned to Reid.

"Do you want to tell them what you found?"

It was actually JJ who'd found it in Diana's journal. Reid had been so distracted by the memory of his near-miss with Riley Jenkins' killer, that he'd glossed over the subsequent item of detail.

"Last night, when I was reading through the journal we found in my father's closet, there was….well, really, JJ noticed it more than I did…..there was a reference to my Uncle Daniel. I don't really have a memory of him, but apparently he died, not all that long before Riley Jenkins did. I had a memory of being at a funeral…I remember asking my Mom about it when we were here on that case….and she told me it had been my Uncle Daniel's funeral I was remembering. Then, when Emily died….."

He stopped, mid-sentence, and threw his eyes in her direction, embarrassed and sorry at having brought it up. She returned a sad smile, regretful at the fact that it had happened.

He moved on without completing the thought. "Well, when I visited my Mom again, we talked about Uncle Daniel. And she told me he'd killed himself. Shot himself, actually, and been found in the desert. I'd forgotten about the desert part of it, until JJ found it in the journal. So, we wondered…"

His voice had begun trailing off, a signal of the fatigue that was already present so early in the day. JJ heard it, and took up the tale.

"We were just curious, really, but …well, we had Garcia dig into it, and…"

"And," came through the speaker phone, "it should surprise no one that, despite the fact that this happened…..oh, a gazillion years ago, and was on scanned paper records…the great Garcia, genie of knowledge, dispenser of detail…"

"Garcia…." Morgan tried to move her along.

"Patience, my sweet bundle of bodaciousness. What I was trying to say was that I found the record of Daniel Reid's death. And the exact location where his body was found."

Rossi wasn't at all sure any of this was relevant. "Why are we thinking an almost thirty year old suicide might have anything to do with our current case?" He looked in Reid's direction. "Not that it's not important, Spencer, but I don't see the connection."

Reid acknowledged it. "I don't know that there is a connection. But we noticed it, and the location…."

Garcia spoke up again. "The location where Daniel Reid's body was found was only two miles from where Davidovitch's remains were, and 1.3 miles from where the second victim, Farrell's, remains were found."

Emily agreed with her more experienced friend. "The desert is probably a popular spot for the dumping of bodies, isn't it? I mean, it's so big…..it's not as likely that someone will stumble across a dead body."

Morgan felt the need to remind all of them. "We're not sure the unsub meant for the bitten tongues and missing hearts to be part of a display, or if they were removed as part of a compulsion. So he may or may not have purposely left the bodies near the hiking trail, where they were a little more likely to be found, given the vastness of the desert."

Rossi was persistent. "Whether or not they were meant as a display….I still don't see why we think there might be a connection with Reid's uncle's suicide. Hotch?"

The unit chief was of mixed opinions. "Dave's right in saying there's no overt connection between the old case and the new one," he started.

Rossi interrupted. "Not just that. I'm not sure why we're talking about Reid's uncle as a 'case'. Is there some question as to whether he was actually a suicide?"

Reid and JJ looked at each other, not sure which of them would speak. The decision was moot when Garcia's voice once again came through the phone.

"Actually, he was declared dead of a gunshot wound to the head. But the only gun found at the scene was a shotgun. It would be an impossible shot to make."

Morgan's eyes were on Reid as he spoke. "Not if he had long arms like Pretty Boy's."

Reid nodded his understanding. "It sounds like that's what was concluded back then. But I don't know…."

"Well, we can put that to rest, can't we?" Morgan was already pushing his chair back. "There's got to be a shotgun around here."

Rossi was persistent on the lack of connection between the two cases. "Even if we reach a different conclusion about your uncle, Spencer…..why connect the two cases?"

"They're only connected if my dad is part of the current case, I think. Two brothers…..even years apart….with the same remote location involved…."

That spurred an idea in Emily. "Do you think maybe it was a place they went together? Your father and his brother, I mean. Do you know if they were hikers?"

Reid gave a helpless shrug. There was no way to know, now. Diana and Daniel were both dead, and William was missing. Except…

Emily responded to her own question. "We can ask Dorothy Ricks, your dad's office manager. She might at least know if he still hiked. She seemed pretty close to him."

Hotch's nod indicated she should make the call just as Morgan returned, shotgun in hand.

"Okay, Pretty Boy, let's see what this looks like in your hands."

"Ahem….." The clearing of JJ's throat reminded her husband of the family gun ethic. _Always check. Always._

Reid opened the gun and verified an empty barrel. Then he tried holding the gun against his body from several different angles. It became clear that even his long arms weren't long enough for a shot to the temple, as had happened with Daniel Reid. He could have accomplished a shot to the chest, or the chin, but to put the gun to one side, hold it steady enough and shoot with the one hand from that side, was impossible.

Hotch looked to his old friend to answer a question on all of their minds.

"Dave?"

The gun aficionado understood, and shook his head. "No change in general design or barrel length for at least a century." So it couldn't simply have been another 'size' of shotgun.

Morgan let out a whistle. "So it couldn't have been suicide. Kid, looks like your Uncle Daniel was a murder victim."

It seemed like there was yet another Reid-family-related cold case before them. But without a definite link to the current one.

Emily returned from her conversation with Dorothy Ricks.

"She says he told her once that he used to like to hike, but had a bad experience one time, and stopped. He never said what the bad experience was, but she'd always assumed it was either a fall, or maybe he got lost."

JJ had an idea. "What about Riley's dad? Wasn't he very friendly with your parents? Maybe he could tell us something."

The man had been arrested for the murder of his son's killer. But the courts had been kind to him. He'd served a fifteen month sentence in a minimum security facility, and been released. The fact of his having been in the penal system, however, might make him easier to find.

"Garcia…"

"On it, sir."

Hotch turned his attention back to the rest. "We've got a lot of ground to cover today. Let's get moving."

* * *

As so often happens, the third trip to the desert seemed to go by more quickly than the prior two had. But maybe that was just because Reid had so much information to filter through his mind.

_My uncle was murdered._ He'd seen so many shell-shocked families of murder victims. Now he tried to conjure an image of his parents, in that same situation. _But they didn't realize it was a murder. They thought he'd killed himself._

He tried to remember his conversation with his mother about it. It had occurred at another time of turmoil in his life, after Emily's 'death'. He wasn't quite as good with recall from auditory input, but if he could visualize, he could virtually replay the scene…..

_*** "You lost your Uncle Daniel when you were four. Do you remember that?"_

_He'd flashed on it during that murder case that hadn't actually involved his father._

_"Vaguely. I can picture it, and I can sort of remember you mentioning his name. But that's all. I don't even know how he was my uncle. Was he your brother?"_

_She gave a wistful smile. "I had long since been put of my family…what little I had. No, Daniel was your father's brother. His younger brother."_

_Funny. In all these years, he'd never even thought about his father's side of the family. As though William's rejection had been made on the part of all of them. Now he began to wonder about the Reids._

_"What happened to him?"_

_Diana shook her head in pity. "It was so sad. So sad. They were so proud of him, and then…." Her voice trailed off._

_"Then? Mom, what happened to him? How did he die?"_

_She looked directly at her son now. "He shot himself."_

_Reid was stunned. He'd thought mental illness only ran on one side of his family._

_"He…. why? Did they know why?"_

_She shrugged. "It was conjecture. He'd been in graduate school….. he was so bright. Not as bright as you, of course. But very bright. He was getting his degree in physics. And then he just disappeared."_

_"Disappeared?"_

_"Yes. He was in school in…. Massachusetts…."_

_"MIT?"_

_"Yes, that's it. The Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He'd just been home for winter break, but then he'd gone back. Or so we thought."_

_"He didn't?" Reid was starting to feel like he was working a BAU case._

_"Well, we don't know that, do we? The family thought he'd gone back. But he was found here, in the desert just west of here. It was so sad."_

_He didn't understand. "How did they find him?"_

_"A hiker found him, down in a canyon. He was dead. He'd shot himself."_

_"How? Was there a gun?" Still working the case._

_As so often happened, Diana abruptly shifted gears. She was done with this voyage into memory._

_"Well, of course, there must have been a gun. But, my dear Spencer, your Uncle Daniel's was the only death you experienced as a boy. It's no wonder you're having such a difficult time now." ***  
_

And now, he wished he'd pressured her more at the time. It had been murder. And he might have found out about it, if only he hadn't been so rattled about the apparent loss of Emily Prentiss.

_I still had both of my parents then. Maybe I could have helped to solve it. Gotten justice for Uncle Daniel.  
_

One more piece of fallout from that time of deception among the team. And, maybe, a contributor to the fact that William Reid was now also among the missing. Reid could only hope his father hadn't met the same fate as his brother.

"Hey, you're awfully quiet back there. You okay?" Emily was solicitous.

"Fine. Just…you know, working through things."

She thought she might keep his mind from going to bad places if she worked through those things with him.

"You know, I've been thinking. When we get out there…..what if we try a cognitive interview?"

"With me? About what? I was just a kid."

"Exactly. So maybe it's a distant memory. But maybe, if your dad liked to hike way back when…maybe he brought you out here. And maybe being surrounded by the scenery will help bring the memory forward."

It hadn't happened when he'd gone to the sites with Morgan, but then, they hadn't been using a technique.

"Maybe." But his tone told her he was doubtful.

Morgan spoke up. "You know, Kid, maybe the princess is on to something. What if we tried cognitive recall on your memory of the time your uncle died? You know, the funeral, a conversation between your parents...anything, really."

Reid had to consider it. "I did have that visual image of being at a funeral, but my mom had to tell me whose funeral it was. I don't know. It was a long time ago."

"I know, Kid. And, if it was any other brain but yours, I wouldn't even think it was worth trying. But…"

Reid sighed. They had to get a lead from somewhere.

"All right. We'll try both. The desert first. We'll have to wait on the other. It's too easy to have false memories when the interview covers more than one scene."

Morgan nodded as he turned the SUV onto the off-road portion of their journey.

"One thing at a time."

* * *

"God, it's beautiful. It's so huge!"

It had almost become a mantra. Emily had been reciting it ever since they'd left the highway. Behind them, they could still see the tall buildings of Las Vegas, but the rest of the terrain was desert, flatland broken only by equally flat-topped mesa.

"The clouds look like they could actually touch the ground. And it looks like both the earth and the sky go on forever."

"I don't know, Princess. I must be too much of a city boy. Give me civilization any day."

She chuckled. "I didn't say I'd want to live here. I just think it's…..amazing. And there's a lot more color than I thought there'd be."

Reid spoke up. "It's not quite the same kind of view as you'd get in the Painted Desert, but it has thirteen different hues of brown, yellow, orange and pink."

"Looks red way out there, see?" Emily pointed to their right.

"It's a trick of the eye. If you get up close to it, you'll see it's more of a rust color. Mostly brown, with some orange."

Reid may not have spent all that much time in the desert during his youth, but he was as knowledgeable about it as he was about anything else.

"All right," said Morgan, "here's the visitor's station. We're pretty close now. Pretty Boy, can you remember exactly where we were?"

For the first time, they were in the desert unescorted. But Reid's memory served them well, and they found the exact location where the Davidovitch remains had been found.

Knowing she was there to give a fresh opinion, Emily began to walk the area, noting the markings left on the ground by the evidence collection team.

"So, it's just a short distance from where a hiker might have left his vehicle at the visitor's station. But we're not sure if the unsub drove the victim here?"

"There were no tire tracks, but there had been a storm. So, no, we can't be sure. But it's unlikely he drove," answered Morgan.

"So, he either transported the body some other way, or they both walked in." She surmised.

"Right," replied Reid. "But we can't know if the victim was under duress, or if he just walked out here with the unsub, without knowing what was planned."

"You know what I _don't_ see?" offered Emily. "I don't see any evidence that the victim was restrained here."

"Restrained?" Morgan didn't understand her point.

"Well, if the cause of death was dehydration, how did the unsub keep the victim here long enough to dry out?"

Reid realized how addled he was by the whole case. They hadn't known about the dehydration when they'd been here before. Still, it should have been an obvious question. And he didn't have an answer.

"Unless he kept the victim elsewhere for long enough to dehydrate him, and then brought him here."

But it didn't sound likely, even to him, and they were all three inclined to reject that scenario.

"So," posited Morgan, "we need to figure out if the unsub had a way to keep the victim here, without water…..how?"

"Could he have drugged him? Or kept him subdued, somehow?" Emily wondered.

Reid wasn't certain. "Maybe. Now that you've pointed it out, I don't see any evidence of stakes in the ground, or even a heavy enough boulder that the unsub could have kept him tied to. But I saw the autopsy report, and there was no evidence of drugs in his system. I suppose it's possible he was drugged early on, then became too weak to move, while the drug metabolized. But I would think the dehydration would have affected the clearance of any drug."

That made sense to Morgan. "So, what are we thinking? That the unsub somehow stayed out here with the victim, maybe threatened him with a weapon, and watched him shrivel?"

Emily shook away the image. "This guy's pretty complex. Organized enough to plan something like that, patient enough to wait for the victim to become debilitated….and then angry enough to carve out his heart, and take a few bites."

Morgan threw a look her way that said, _Take it easy._ She cast her eyes quickly at Reid to see his reaction to what she'd said, and then gave Morgan a nodded assent. Investigating a case with such a close personal connection was going to be challenging.

Nothing else from the site striking Emily, they got back into the SUV and followed GPS coordinates to the place where Daniel Reid's body had been discovered.

Reid exited the vehicle and stood, perfectly still, trying to picture a young man who might have looked very much like him, standing in the very same spot many years ago...moments away from death. So many years later, there was no chance of finding evidence of any sort.

The others gave him a few minutes, and then Emily decided it was time for distraction.

"Okay, Reid, let's see if we can get you to remember anything."

Her words brought him back to the present. The younger man wasn't enthused, but it had to be done. "All right."

She settled him on a small ledge, where he could face out at the desert expanse.

"Okay. Now, you can either close your eyes, or keep them on the distance, whichever you think will work best. All right?"

"Okay."

"Good. Now, take yourself back. You're four years old, and your dad wants to take you on a little trip outside the city. He takes you for a long, long ride in the car….and you see that you're not in town any more. You see the city getting farther and farther behind you…..you see the sand….and the brown colors…..and the blue of the sky…..and the clouds…"

"The clouds….the clouds are in the way….I blow them away…..I want to see…..Dad…Uncle Daniel…..can't see…no blue sky….no…dark, it's dark….too dark…scared.…..but the clouds…..and the wind blows…and…oh, my God…the sky….."

His two fellow profilers exchanged a concerned look at Reid's words. But he didn't seem particularly agitated. Emily asked an unspoken, ' _Should I keep going?_ ' Morgan responded with a ' _Why not?'_ shrug.

"What about the sky? Are you frightened?"

Reid had shut his eyes now. "Not frightened…..beautiful…..no clouds…..stars….so many stars….beautiful…holy….."

"You were in the desert with your father at night?"

Reid nodded.

"And your Uncle Daniel?"

"He knows the names…..he can name them all…..but so many…."

"Did something happen that night, Spencer?" Using his childhood name.

"Watched the stars…with Dad….and Uncle Daniel."

She asked a few more times, in a few different ways, but the answer was always the same. Finally, with an agreeing nod from Morgan, she ended the process.

Reid actually shook himself back to the present.

"Kid, you all right? That was more like a hypnosis session than a cognitive interview."

Reid acknowledged it.

"I learned a little bit of hypnosis technique after the last time we were in Vegas. The process helped me a lot then, so I thought it might be useful to have a little skill with it. I just applied it as a little self-hypnosis, while Emily led me."

"Well, I wish you'd thought to tell me. You scared me a little bit there. Like I didn't know my own power."

He smiled in apology. "What did I remember?"

Morgan had thought to voice-record the whole thing, and played it back for Reid.

The young man listened intently. As the recording progressed, his colleagues could see the dawn of recognition in his face.

"Reid?"

"I remember. Sort of. I remember Dad took me out to the desert, and we met Uncle Daniel out here….somewhere. I don't know if it was here. We were going camping. I don't remember how far we walked. I think they carried me part of the way, though. And I remember they wanted me to see the stars. They said it was why they went into the desert….to see the stars."

Morgan nodded, now understanding Reid's recalled concern about the clouds. They would have been in the way.

"So you think you went camping with your old man and his brother….but nothing happened?"

Reid could only shrug. "I guess not. Or else it's just buried."

Emily pointed out what they did know. "At least we made some progress on the connection your dad and your uncle had to the desert. Sort of."

Reid stiffened as another, unwelcome thought came to him.

"My dad and his brother went to the desert together. We know that now. What if they went one time…and only one of them returned?"


	13. Chapter 13

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 13**

"So….how is he doing?"

JJ looked up from the open folder in front of her on the table. She and Rossi had been poring through personal material on the two confirmed victims for over an hour.

"He's okay. Considering, anyway. He's not really sleeping. I don't think he can get his thoughts to slow down enough. But he's holding together."

"I'd be willing to bet a certain charming little lady has something to do with that."

JJ smiled at him. If ever a godfather was in love with a goddaughter, it was David Rossi.

"I believe you would be right. I don't know how we would have gotten this far without the kids for comic relief at the end of the day."

She pushed back from the table, needing to stretch. "I just wish I thought it would be enough for…..well…who knows what's just around the corner in this case?"

He heard the worry in her voice, and he thought it was warranted. But, not wanting to add to her burden, he tried to assure her.

"He'll be okay, Cara. He has you."

She smiled as she pushed her chair back. "Thanks for that. Can I get you some coffee? I'm pouring."

He handed her his mug and looked back to the file he'd been reading. He and JJ had exchanged folders, so that both sets of eyes could winnow through the material for connections. Rossi's brow furrowed as he tried to remember something he'd read in the other file. He slid it across from JJ's place to his.

"Hmph. Here's something. They had kids the same age…boys. Farrell was a scout leader…maybe…."

"Maybe. But Davidovitch's daughter made it seem pretty unlikely. It didn't sound like he was all that involved as a father."

"Where is the son?"

"Overseas. He works for an oil company. Hasn't been home for almost two years, according to his sister."

"Okay….well, it was worth a try. Apart from that, I don't see anything that would tie the two victims together outside of work. I think we should concentrate our efforts on the case connections."

"Or someone within the IRS."

"True enough. Let's go find our comrades in blue. We'll let them wade through the cases while we look for other connections."

* * *

They wandered out of their small conference room and into a much larger meeting room, where teams of task force members were reviewing files. It was easy to spot their unit chief among the sea of blue.

"I thought you were working on getting a subpoena for Maxfield's cases. Or is this more fun than hanging around with a bunch of lawyers?" Rossi teased his old friend.

Hotch gave him a withering look. "I helped with the groundwork, but the locals have to apply for it. So I thought I'd help out here."

"Any word from Spence?"

Hotch nodded. "Emily called. He remembered being in the desert before, with his father and his uncle. But nothing beyond that. They're on their way back in."

Or so they would have been, if not for a message hurriedly delivered from the task force administrative coordinator.

"Agent Hotchner? This just came in." He handed over a message. JJ could see that it was brief.

Hotch spent only a few seconds reading and processing. Then he looked at his two team members.

"They've found William Reid's car."

* * *

Reid could feel his stomach roiling, and was glad he'd skipped breakfast. They'd been diverted to another location, a parking lot of the University of Nevada, Las Vegas campus. William Reid's vehicle had been located, inadvertently, when a security guard became curious about the car being parked in the same spot for over a week. He'd been concerned that a student was attempting to live out of the car, and run the plates. The BOLO had come up immediately.

Why the car would be at UNLV was a mystery. So far, nothing in what they'd uncovered about William Reid had led them to a connection with the university. They could only surmise he'd been lured there. Or, perhaps, had been visiting someone there, and then been taken. The fact of the car's lying unmoved for all that time bode ill for an innocent explanation. It was increasingly clear that he was in trouble. And Reid could only hope that the use of the present tense was still warranted.

Emily turned to look at him. "Hotch said the report indicates no sign of struggle. But they haven't been inside it yet. They're waiting for us."

He could only nod, not trusting his voice.

Morgan sought out his friend's eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Hey, Reid….don't go leaping to conclusions. There are lots of explanations for his car being there." _If only I could think of a single one._

They'd been coming from the western desert, and had to cross downtown Las Vegas to get to the campus only a mile and a half beyond the famous strip of casinos and hotels. Morgan had kept the accelerator fully depressed for as long as traffic would allow. Now, they turned onto the university property.

"This place is huge," remarked Emily, who'd been educated on urban campuses.

"It's Paradise."

"What?"

"We're in a town called Paradise. My dad's car was found in Paradise. How about that?"

The way Reid said it, it sounded like an omen.

"Do you remember your way around here, Pretty Boy?" Morgan knew Reid had won an undergraduate degree, and at least one of his Ph.D.s, at UNLV.

"Turn left at the statue, then right around the quadrangle. The School of Physics and Astronomy will be on your left."

It was where they'd been told William's car had been found. Once they made the turn around the campus quad, it wasn't hard to spot their destination. There were two Nevada State Police cars and a campus security vehicle surrounding their target.

Emily had trouble seeing the vehicle beyond the surrounding cars, but then…..she put a hand to her mouth as she spied it, and sought out Morgan's face. The look of surprise told her he'd noticed it too.

It was a light aqua version of the ancient vehicle Reid had driven right up until Henry had been born. Then, because JJ had insisted he have something more reliable if he was to transport his godson, Reid had modernized.

Both of them turned to look at their colleague, whose facial expression combined shock and consternation. Emily was almost positive the shock was due to the similarity in vehicular design choices between the estranged father and son.

They exited the SUV and made their way over to the group of LEOs, making introductions all around. If the LEOs noticed the similarity in names between the FBI agent and the owner of the vehicle, they didn't choose to mention it.

"I thought it was just one of those grad students, you know? The inside of it was messy enough for someone to be living out of, but usually the kids have something like a van, so they can lay a mattress in it. Caught me totally by surprise to find out there was a BOLO on it," explained the security guard.

Morgan took the lead for the BAU team. "Do you know exactly how long it's been here?"

"Not exactly, no. But we can find out. I didn't make much of it until probably a few days in, because it hadn't moved. That's when I thought somebody was probably squatting in my parking lot. But the entrance to the building has a security camera that's mounted high enough, it should pick up this part of the lot."

"How do we get that feed?" asked Emily.

"I'll take you over to our main office. Do you want to look at the vehicle first?"

Reid had already been leaning over the car, eyes shaded by his hand, so he could see into the window. Now his teammates joined him. After just a quick glance, both of them stood and gave each other a raised brow look.

Reid was still peering in, his own brow furrowed in concentration as he created a visual image of the contents. He would take inventory later. When he stood, Morgan watched him for a reaction. Not seeing one, he addressed the LEOs.

"Nobody touches this until the crime scene investigators are done with it, all right? We'll go take a look at the tapes, and then come back after the evidence collection is completed."

The profilers returned to their vehicle and started following the guard across the campus to the main security office. Morgan eyed Reid in the rear view mirror.

"You all right, Kid?"

"Fine."

"What did you see?"

Emily shifted in her seat so she could turn around and look at him. "Did you notice anything…..familiar?"

The look on Reid's face was inscrutable, prompting Emily to push him.

"Reid, didn't you notice? That could have been the inside of your car…..pre-JJ, anyway."

Reid gave her a quick glance and then turned his eyes to the window. "I noticed."

A quick turn of the head from Morgan drew Emily's attention, and she watched her companion give a subtle shake of his head. Any similarities in behavior between William and Spencer Reid would have to go unprobed for now. Their young genius was obviously struggling to absorb it. Emily returned an equally subtle nod to her colleague, and then changed the subject.

"I'll get Garcia going on finding a reason why he would have been here. Maybe he knew someone, maybe he was auditing a course. We did find out he was good with numbers, didn't we? Reid, was he also good with the sciences? Did he like to dabble?"

No answer. Morgan saw that Reid was still staring out the window.

"Reid?"

"Huh?"

Morgan repeated Emily's question.

"I think his brother was. My Uncle Daniel. But my uncle went to MIT….I remember my mother telling me."

"Okay. But maybe your dad was like his brother. Maybe he did take a course or two."

"Or maybe he was just helping one of the professors with their taxes?" offered Emily. "We could definitely have Garcia look into that."

She brought out her phone to call their colleague just as Morgan pulled the SUV into the security parking lot.

"Go ahead, I'll be right behind you." She waved the others inside.

* * *

They didn't even need Reid's prolific processing skills. With William Reid's car standing out like a sore thumb in the middle of the parking lot, watching over a week's worth of video surveillance was akin to looking at a still life portrait. They ran the feed backwards and watched as the vehicle sat, undisturbed, for almost eight days. And then, at about 3 PM….almost exactly eight days ago…..they saw the car pull into the lot, and the driver's door opened. And out stepped a dark haired man of slight build, maybe six inches shorter than Reid.

"Is that him?" asked Emily, who'd never met the man. He wasn't built quite like Reid, but there was something about his gait that seemed familiar.

Morgan moved his eyes from the screen, to his open-mouthed little brother, and back again.

"It's him."

* * *

With information beginning to flow in, the team planned only a short break for supper. They would reconvene at the FBI office at 7.

JJ begged herself and Reid away from the others. They would get something and bring it back to their hotel room, so they could check in with her parents and the kids.

_And_ , she thought _, so I can take care of my husband._

He'd looked more shaken than ever when he'd returned from the UNLV campus. JJ was aware they'd found William's car, and identified him on a security videotape. He'd been alone, and walked into the science building of his own accord. And then disappeared. After the initial spotting of William's arrival to the lot, Reid had watched the ensuing eight days of video, making sure the man hadn't simply exited the building and left his vehicle behind. But he hadn't.

That finding had spurred a thorough search of the Astronomy and Physics building, carried out by a combined force of Nevada State Police, UNLV Campus Security, and three weary BAU profilers. There was no sign of William Reid anywhere.

"They can't very well dust the entire building for prints, or look for his DNA. We don't even know where he was going in there, or who he might have been visiting."

Reid expressed his frustration to his wife as they entered their room.

"Give PG a chance to find something, Spence. If he has a connection with anyone there, she'll uncover it. Then the area for evidence collection will be narrowed."

She closed the door behind them and led him over to their bed.

Her husband shook his head. "This was over eight days ago. And the campus is active. Do you know how many people have been in and out of that building in that time? It would be nearly impossible to cross reference all the fingerprints, let alone the DNA."

"Well," she threw up her hands. "It's a start, right? At least we know where he went when he left his condo. And that he didn't seem to be there under duress…or could you tell?"

He knew what she was asking. If he'd been stressed at the time, his William's gait might have been slowed, even hesitant, showing his reluctance. Or it might have been hurried and uneven, demonstrative of anger or upset. But William Reid's gait had been steady and relaxed.

"It didn't look like anything was wrong. But he was only on screen for a few seconds. It was hard to tell."

"I'm amazed you found him on the video at all." JJ curled herself behind Reid and started massaging his shoulders. "Ugh….I can feel it….here…..and here…..and here…"

Her fingers usually elicited a steady stream of 'aahhs' from her husband. Not so tonight, which caused her to crane her neck forward to see his face.

"What?"

He looked off to the distance, revisiting the scene in the parking lot.

"The reason we found him so easily on the video was…..his car."

"What about it?"

"You remember the car I had when I first came to the BAU?"

"The original Reidmobile?" 

It had been a team joke. Ancient, boxy, and filled with an assortment of used coffee cups, notepads and books.

"Yeah. My dad's car…it was almost exactly the same. Except in aqua."

JJ stopped kneading. "Your dad had a car just like that?" She sounded as surprised as Reid had been. "What about the inside?"

He threw a glance her way. "Almost the same. Except he had tax law and accounting books."

"You and your dad…."

He snorted. "Yep. Me and my dad. I know Emily and Morgan noticed, because I saw them looking at one another when they thought I wasn't watching."

JJ slid forward so that she was sitting next to him, and turned him toward her.

"So, you and your dad have the same…..bad….taste in cars." Trying to inject a little humor. "Who would have thought driving in style was genetic?"

He tried to smile, but failed.

"What's wrong, Spence? Why is this bothering you so much?"

"Because. There are so many things I don't know about myself, JJ. I've measured myself, and how I am, and what I do, only against my mother's side of the family. Against my mom, really. I didn't know anyone else. Now I find that things I thought were unique to me might actually be part of a familial trait. That, whether I want it or not, I have this connection to my father. And….."

He'd stopped. But she could see where he was going, and urged him to finish.

"And what?"

"And….what if that's not all that's familial? What if I turn out to be the kind of father my dad was?"

_You are becoming too predictable, my love_. "Spence, you told me yourself that your dad said he left because he was afraid. He didn't know how to handle you, or your mom."

"So?"

"So….are you afraid of Henry?"

"No."

"Rosie?"

He gave the half smile that always got to her. "Well….maybe."

She laughed. "Only because you know she's got you wrapped around her little finger."

"But you'll save me from her, won't you?" Smiling widening. It seemed she always knew how to save him from himself.

JJ just waved her little finger at him. "She'll have to unwrap you from this one first."

He grabbed her finger, and then both hands, and used them to pull her to him.

"Never."


	14. Chapter 14

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 14**

It seemed he was daily amazed at how renewing it was to connect with his children. When Reid and JJ returned to meet with the task force, he felt an infusion of strength and optimism that he hoped would carry him through the evening. He wouldn't worry about the rest of the duration of the case just now. Henry and Rosie would be there for him again, each day.

The team assembled apart from the rest of the task force first. It still wasn't clear that William Reid's case was related to the one that had brought them to Vegas in the first place. Before others might challenge them on spending time and energy on a possibly unrelated missing person, they wanted to update one another and make new assignments.

Garcia had been busy back in Quantico. Or her computers had. Checking in with her was first on their list.

"Okay, I ran the whole department….both departments, actually. A couple of them were arrested for possession, back in the day. The most recent arrest was twenty years ago."

"No doubt they've all been tenured since then," offered a sardonic David Rossi.

"How did you know?" came over the phone.

"I'm a child of the sixties, Penelope."

"Oh. Well, that's pretty much it. One of them seems to be a scofflaw when it comes to on-campus parking but, really, there's nothing else…not criminally speaking, anyway."

"But there is _something_ , Pen?" JJ asked.

"Two of them had some trouble with the IRS, and one of those used William's firm for representation. Only the name of the firm was listed, so I don't know if Reid's dad actually had the case."

Reid spoke up. "Can we get back into their system again, Garcia?"

"You bet, sweet cheeks. As soon as we're done."

Emily started, "Garcia, any connection…"

"No, neither of our dead IRS guys were involved with either of the professors."

It seemed like a dead end, but Hotch knew that premature closure tended to derail an investigation.

"Cast your net wider, Garcia. Look for any connection at all between UNLV and the two victims."

Then he turned to his youngest profiler. "Reid, unless Garcia turns up something, the facts are pointing away from your father's disappearance being related with our original case."

He knew that the news he was delivering was both good and bad. Good, because it took William Reid a step away from a violent, cannibalistic serial killer. And bad, because it meant they wouldn't be able to continue to spread their resources thin. Most, or all, of them would have to abandon looking for William.

"Understood."

"All right. After the task force briefing, you and Garcia get back into the law firm's records. Prentiss, Morgan…we were granted our subpoena for Maxfield's records. He's still fully on paper, so you'll have your work cut out for you."

"So, we're looking for the case overlaps with Farrell and Davidovitch.." started Emily.

"Oh, I can give you those…..I've been digging, remember?" came Garcia's voice through the phone. "So, we already knew there were seventeen case overlaps between the two IRS guys and Maxfield….but there are only four cases with _both_ of the IRS guys and Maxfield. I can give you the names, but…."

"But we still need to dig through the boxes for the files." Morgan sounded resigned. "Let's hope he had a good filing system."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. _Tawny_ looked like an expert filer."

Reid was looking apologetic. "I can help you out after I'm done. I doubt we'll get more than thirty minutes on line again, right, Garcia?"

He knew he could go through the files in a fraction of the time it would take his colleagues.

"Righto, Baby Genius. Our last foray created a little blip in their security system, but it seems to have reset itself. Still, I don't think we'll be able to stay in there any longer than that."

"All right." Hotch continued with his assignments. "JJ, Dave…you'll go back to the campus, see what you can learn from the evening students and professors. There's probably some overlap with daytime, but there will also be some new players."

The two profilers nodded their assent and started for the door. But their way was blocked by a fellow SSA from the Vegas office.

"We found a third body. Male, estimated age fifties to sixties."

All of them tensed. The description could easily fit William Reid. But it could also fit Max Maxfield.

Hotch pursued more information. "In the search area?"

The task force had created a search team to cover ten square miles of desert after the first two bodies had been located. It was slow going, given the many rises and falls, and ledges. And it was impressive how much even scrub brush could cover up.

The SSA shook his head. "Just outside, by about a mile. Another hiker found this one, about eight hours ago. It took him that long to hike back to his car and then get within cell range."

Reid started to push back his chair, expecting to be called upon to go and evaluate the scene again. But a hand to his shoulder stopped him.

"Not this time, Reid," said his unit chief. "I want to get a look at the site myself. Dave….I'd appreciate your eyes as well."

It was true that Hotch did want to make his own observations at the dump site. But it was also true that he didn't think he should press his luck with their young genius. With each new discovery, and with his continued absence, the chances of the body being that of William Reid grew. Rossi had met the man before. He should be able to make a visual identification, obviating the need to bring Reid along.

Hotch made an amendment to the other assignments, cognizant that Reid might be needing additional support before the night was out.

"JJ, hold off on UNLV until Reid can go with you. Until then, I'd like you to connect with the media handlers here. I want to make sure we're controlling the flow of information in and out. When Reid's done looking through the law office files, he can go to UNLV with you."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

"We're almost out of time, Boy Wonder."

"I know. Just let me get through these last few….."

After that, Garcia could only hear mumbling, as though he was talking to himself. From past experience, she knew to wait him out. But the suspense was killing her. Finally, she could stand it no longer.

"What? Do you see something?"

A long pause, followed by, "…I don't know. It's….something. But I don't know?"

" _What_ is it? Reid!"

Her shout through the phone line seemed to startle him back to himself. "Huh? Oh, sorry. I found another note. It's handwritten, like the one from before. And all it says is, ' _Leave it alone_.' It was in a file with just some accounting spreadsheets, nothing more."

"Whose file?"

"It was just the firm's spreadsheets. From the rest of the records, it looks like my dad used to do periodic audits…mostly production numbers, not money. He was good with numbers. I _do_ remember that."

Garcia was intrigued. "So, do you think the note had anything to do with what was in the file?"

She couldn't see Reid shaking his head. "I doubt it. It looks like it was just drop-filed into the folder accidentally."

"Ooh…there's the blip. I need to cut us off like…..right…..now." And she did.

Reid stretched his long frame out in the chair, stiff from having spent an intense thirty minutes hunched over the tablet's screen.

"All right. Thanks, Garcia. I think we've been through everything for the past six months. Unless we decide to go back further, I think we're done with this."

"You're welcome, sweet thing. Now I'm off to my six million other tasks that my beloved team of profilers has given me….not that I'm complaining."

He grinned at her good nature. "Thanks. I'll let you know if any of this pans out."

He left the borrowed office and rejoined his colleagues in the conference room. From what little he could see of them behind the mounds of files, Reid thought that both Morgan and Emily looked extremely grateful for the distraction.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, you all done?"

Reid nodded, prompting Emily to ask, "And?"

"And there's nothing that connects my dad with the two professors who had IRS trouble. But I found another note. Where's JJ?"

Morgan used his head to indicate her location on the main floor.

"I guess someone decided to name our killer. JJ's out there trying to put a lid on the title of the 'Mojave Murderer."

"Hotch won't like that."

Reid knew, as did the others, that their superior liked to keep all of the task forces' minds open about anything connected to the crimes and their perpetrators. And he was especially devoted to keeping the public's focus on the victims. No need to reward an unsub with fame, or a sobriquet.

"No, he won't. But if JJ does her 'JJ thang'," said Morgan, "Hotch won't ever need to know about it. Ah, here she comes, Pretty Boy."

JJ was rolling her eyes as she walked in the door. "Oh, my God, they're crazy. There can be some relentless reporters anywhere, but those….."

Her husband smiled at her. "They don't have much to report about here. Somebody wins big. Somebody loses big. Having a serial killer on the loose is making their day."

"Yeah, well…..maybe I'm just rusty. But I'm not one hundred percent sure that I squelched it."

Emily was sympathetic. "You tried. That's all anyone can ask." Then she turned her thoughts back to the recent development. "So, Reid found something…."

JJ just looked her question at him, and he responded.

"Another note. All it says is ' _Leave it alone_.' It was in a file of spreadsheets of case production numbers. I don't think it was related to that. It was either purposely slipped in, or it fell in."

"And someone scanned it into the electronic file without asking any questions?"

Morgan thought there might be someone at the office who could provide a lead. But Emily knew better.

"They just hire people…temps, usually….to scan. They're not paid to be curious, or even to notice anything. It's pretty mindless."

"Familiar with the work, are you, Princess?"

She made a face at Morgan. "We didn't exactly have scanners when I was young enough to be doing it. But, yes…..I know from my mother that State scans non-classified documents that way. So I wouldn't be surprised if a law office did the same."

Reid offered another observation. "I think it was the same handwriting as the first note."

He opened the camera app on his phone to find the photos he'd taken of each. It had been too risky to print the files from their clandestine computer raid. Finding the original photo, he flipped back and forth between the older one and the newer, showing it to the others as he did so.

"Looks pretty similar to me," offered Emily, and the others concurred.

"We need to get our hands on those notes. But we'll need a warrant for that," observed Morgan.

Emily thought otherwise. "They don't exactly look like work product. They shouldn't be protected. Maybe all we really need is a concerned co-worker to help us out."

_One that I'll bet harbored a crush on William Reid for a very long time_. Emily pulled out her phone to call Dorothy Ricks.

* * *

"Jeez, this is giving me the creeps. And don't tell any of the young'uns I said that."

Hotch smiled at his long-time friend. They'd driven the same route out into the desert as had Morgan and Reid on the previous two days. But night was falling, and the ride seemed even longer, and the land more godforsaken, than it had for their two younger colleagues.

"You're a city boy, Dave. Even if you grew up on Long Island."

"Virginia isn't exactly the boondocks, Aaron. How do people live out here, in the desert?"

"They don't. They live on the edge of it, where there's comfort in numbers. Lots of numbers. They only visit the desert. Or drive through it on their way to LA." 

_And, sometimes, they die in it._

They were going off-road now, following one of the state troopers. Only their headlights, and the glow of the city behind them, provided relief from total darkness. Once they went over a rise, and into a flat stretch beyond it, the effect of the city lights disappeared. A new level of darkness settled over the two profilers in the SUV, and over their thoughts.

As they proceeded further into the desert, a new, softer glow took shape in the distance. Nearing it, they recognized the generator-supported spotlights at the scene, along with the headlights of several more state police vehicles, and the crime scene team. Like the others, Hotch left his headlights on as he and Rossi exited the SUV.

"What have we got?" he asked the lead state trooper as they approached.

"Same basic thing. No visible restraints, part of the tongue gone, heart carved out. No extraneous bits of tissue found, but I think we'll need daylight to be sure."

Rossi made his way past the crime scene team to approach the body. He studied it for a few seconds, then turned to look at Hotch, and gave a subtle shake of his head. Not William Reid.

Hotch gave an equally subtle nod in return, and spent a few minutes going over details of the discovery and how the remains would be processed. He and Rossi walked the area lit by the spots, but it was minimal in what was now full darkness. Any further exploration would have to wait until first light.

As they got back in the SUV for the return trip, Rossi explained.

"He was probably in the right age group, but this guy was short and squat. My bet is that it's Maxfield. I think we should be able to get an ID by tomorrow."

Hotch took one hand from the wheel to rub his eyes. "I don't know what to think about that. If Maxfield was killed by the same unsub who killed the two IRS agents…it looks like it could connect to William Reid. They were both tax attorneys."

Rossi understood. "You were hoping Reid's father's disappearance was unrelated. Even if it meant we couldn't spend time on it."

Hotch chanced a glance across at the passenger seat. "At least, that way….there'd be hope. But now….I don't know."

"Agreed."

* * *

"Was it this busy during the day? I thought a college campus would quiet down at night. At least, away from the dorms."

JJ was surprised at the number of people who seemed to be moving about as they drove into the parking lot where William's car had been found.

Reid's eye had immediately gone to the spot where his father's vehicle had been sitting until this afternoon. The space was empty now, the vehicle removed for processing.

"My guess is that it's because of the astronomy program. See, over there, behind this building? That's the observatory. They have a planetarium there, with shows open to the public. And they'll even let you go up and look through the telescope after the show."

JJ made a mental note. _Family activity….if we ever make it here as a family._

"Should we stick together, or divide and conquer?"

Reid chose the latter. "How about I take the professors, and you take the students?" Remembering his few, ill-fated attempts to interact on the student level.

"Done. Half an hour?"

"Okay. If we get tied up, we can text."

_We? I'm not the one who can ramble into the next century._ But all she said was, "Okay."

* * *

She was just wrapping up with a group of part time graduate students when her phone vibrated. JJ tensed immediately when she saw the call was from Rossi.

"Rossi?"

"It's not him." No introductory remarks. Just cutting to right to the point.

JJ blew out a breath of relief. "Thank God. Was it part of the case?"

"It was part of the IRS case, definitely. Same general location, same m.o. But whether it's part of William's case….that's a different question. I'm suspicious our victim is Maxfield, the tax attorney whose records are probably mounded all over Morgan and Prentiss at the moment."

JJ's mind worked quickly as she calculated all that Rossi's information might, or might not, mean.

"So…. that would mean the unsub has expanded beyond IRS victims….to tax attorneys."

"To _this_ tax attorney. It would be premature to extrapolate."

"But…. all right. I won't jump to conclusions. But what should I tell Spence?"

"Just that it wasn't his dad. He's too smart, JJ. He'll figure the rest out."

* * *

She found him on the second floor. As she walked down the hallway, peering into each open office, JJ heard the distinct sound of her husband's voice, and followed it to the open doorway of an office marked, 'Professor E. Dahlgren, Astrophysics'. Reid seemed heavily engaged in conversation with a man who looked to be in his late sixties or seventies.

Both of them turned to her soft knock.

"JJ." Reid stood, as did the other man. "Professor Dahlgren, this is SSA Jennifer Jareau…and my wife."

That startled JJ. They'd made a practice of not discussing their private relationship in the work setting. And yet, here was her husband, telling a perfect stranger.

"JJ, this is Professor Dahlgren. It turns out he knew my Uncle Daniel."

She showed her surprise. "Really? How?"

The professor waved both of them to take seats. "I was just barely out of graduate school myself. Danny was here for the summer. He had family here, I do remember that, now that Spencer reminded me. But he was interning here, on a program through MIT. Both of our institutions were pretty involved with the Manhattan project. A lot of the work took place around here. Not many people know that."

Reid had, of course. But he'd never had reason to put it together with his uncle. He explained to JJ some of what he'd already learned from Professor Dahlgren.

"The project had already produced the weapon, of course. World War II was already ended. But there was still quite a bit of work, still under the aegis of the project, in nuclear physics."

"And astrophysics," added Dahlgren. "Much of what we learned about the atom came from our knowledge of space and how bodies relate to one another in space. And vice versa."

Reid brought them back to the reason they were there. "He knew Uncle Daniel had died, but not how."

Dahlgren nodded. "My God, no, I didn't. I'd heard that it was sudden, and in the desert, and just assumed he'd had a climbing accident. There are at least three or four a year. But now Spencer tells me he was probably murdered there. I'm astounded! He was a great guy. And….you know, you've got me thinking back now…I do remember him talking about a nephew. Must have been you, I guess. I think….yes, I think it was him…did he ever take you into the desert with him? Did you go camping with him?"

Reid's eyes couldn't have gotten any wider. "Yes! I just remembered that yesterday. Or was it today? So much has happened, I can't keep it all straight. But…how did you know?"

Dahlgren narrowed his eyes at Reid. "Are you the genius? Because that's why it came back to me. That Danny took his nephew to see the stars….and his nephew named every one of the constellations. And most of the distances between them."

JJ's hand covered her mouth, but Reid could still see the smile in her eyes. It was the first time she'd heard anyone but Diana describe her husband as a child.

_No wonder he's afraid of Rosie!_

Reid had a sheepish grin on his face. "That was me. Now that you mention it, that part is coming back to me, too."

"Well, you definitely impressed your uncle. He was kind of crazy about you, as I now recall. I think your Uncle Danny was a bit of a kindred soul, if you know what I mean. He was brilliant."

Both FBI phones vibrated simultaneously with a text from Emily.

RECONVENING 30 MINUTES.

As soon as she saw Reid go pale, JJ remembered why she'd been looking for him.

"It wasn't him. Rossi called."

Dahlgren understood the look of relief on Reid's face. He'd already assured the young profiler that he didn't know anything about the whereabouts of William.

"I'm glad, Spencer. I never knew William, but if he's anything like his brother, I'm sure he's a good man."

JJ and Reid just shared a glance, thanked Professor Dahlgren for his time, and assured him they'd be in touch.


	15. Chapter 15

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 15**

"How about I drive?"

JJ recognized the look on her husband's face. He had a lot to work through, and his mind would be anywhere but on the road. Already engaged in the process, Reid merely tossed her the keys and got into the passenger seat as she started them back toward the Las Vegas FBI office.

JJ was practiced in giving Reid the time and space he so often needed. They were precious commodities in a household inhabited by two young children, but she made it a priority. It had been one of the things they'd had to work through early in their relationship. Reid had lived a very solitary life before he'd fallen in love with JJ, and he'd been worried that he'd become dependent on that solitude. Having to share space had been one thing. Having to share himself, so often and so consistently, had been another. He'd said that he was afraid of being moody without his time alone. But JJ had seen right through that. She'd seen his insecurities. His fears that he would open himself fully to her, and to Henry, and be found wanting. That they would all find that he had too little emotional depth to offer them, that he was mostly defined by his intellect.

She thought back to that time in their lives now, as she drove them along in silence. As they'd drawn closer to sharing a life together, he'd seemed to pull back, and she'd worried that he'd decided it was all too much. That they'd worked through it had been a minor miracle accomplished through the remodeling of part of the basement into an office space, and to Reid's frequent visits to what had become his virtual fortress of solitude…..the canopy of stars that overhung their backyard. When he'd begun to share that experience with her, and later with Henry, JJ had felt the solidifying of their new family.

In the seat next to her, Reid's thoughts were jumbled. Literally for decades he'd thought of his 'Reid' heritage only in terms of the distaste he felt for William. To learn that he'd had a relationship of sorts with his Uncle Daniel as well was disquieting.

_Professor Dahlgren liked him. Said he was a great guy. Said he liked spending time with me. But so did my dad, once upon a time. Until he felt overwhelmed, that is. By an eleven year old boy. I don't care if I was smarter than he was. I was eleven! Professor Dahlgren said Uncle Daniel was smart, too. Maybe that's where it came from. Maybe it was more than the sum of my father and my mother. Maybe my uncle would have kept up the relationship. Maybe he would even have made Dad feel like he could handle things. Maybe….._

Maybe what now appeared to have been the murder of Daniel Reid had resulted in reams of fallout in the lives of Diana, William and Spencer. Given that his father had last been seen entering the building where Daniel had worked that fateful summer, Reid couldn't help but wonder if there was a connection. _But what?_

JJ noticed the subtle change in his expression, and concluded that he was ready for some conversation.

"Did it bring anything back, talking with Professor Dahlgren? Do you remember more about your uncle?"

The frustration was evident in Reid's voice. "Just flashes. But I can't be certain I'm not creating them, based on what I heard. I'm pretty sure about the trip to the desert, because that came from out of nowhere. But any picture I might be getting of Uncle Daniel, and his working at UNLV…. I think I might just be making that up in my head."

"Spence, wasn't there anything about him in your mother's journals? The one we found at your dad's place was only about the time of his death. What about before that?"

Reid had been combing his eidetic memory for days, searching for just that information. "I don't remember seeing it. And that's got to mean that there's nothing there. Maybe he wasn't around all that much. He was in graduate school then…"

"Graduate school at nineteen…. he must have taken after his nephew."

Reid smiled. "I was thinking about that. We _were_ pretty similar, I'd bet. And I can't help but wonder if his dying triggered something in my dad. You know, something that would make him leave us."

She'd begun to wonder the same thing. "Do you think he and your dad were close?"

"Enough for us to go camping with him. And I do remember my mom saying how broken up the whole family had been when he died."

"So, could your dad have met some people in the science department all those years ago? Maybe he kept in touch with them, and was visiting with them?"

"Well, so far no one's acknowledged it. But there may be someone who's on sabbatical, or they might have even retired by now."

"But then why would your dad go there to see them?"

"He wouldn't. Which means that, if there's someone who knew both my dad and Uncle Daniel way back, and isn't telling about it now…."

She finished the thought for him. "Maybe that's the person we need to talk to. Maybe your dad did go to visit, and there was some sort of disagreement, or altercation, or something…."

"Which would mean it's unlikely my dad is part of the other case. What are the odds he would deliberately be going to visit someone who turned out to be a serial killer?"

_But it doesn't mean he didn't go to visit another kind of killer._

* * *

The BAU had a brief end-of-day meeting before they each headed over to the hotel for some rest. Hotch and Rossi filled the rest in on what little could be determined at the site of the discovery of the latest victim. He and Morgan would head back out in daylight. Morgan would provide the continuity in observation among the sites, but Hotch wanted to see it again for himself.

Reid told them about the connection between his family and the professor of astrophysics at UNLV, while Emily reported on the frustrating lack of progress in wading through Maxfield's records.

"I was right. Tawny _was_ an expert filer. Except when she forgot that 'L' comes before 'M', and confused 'C' with 'O', and 'S' with 'Z'."

"I can help you in the morning," offered Reid. He always found it soothing to his roiling thoughts when he could focus on a task. The rest of his mind kept working on the problem, but it did so with much less distress to him.

"There's something else you'll need to look through as well, Pretty Boy. We had a message earlier. Ben Yazzie called, wondering if anyone was going to pick up those records we asked him to put together about your dad's orders from his flower shop. So we arranged to have a patrol car swing by and then deliver them here at the end of their shift."

Reid had nearly forgotten about the flowers, having been so distracted with the discovery of his father's car at the probable site of William's disappearance…and especially since this evening's news about his uncle. Any softening he'd begun to feel toward his father evaporated with the memory of what the florist had told them. That William had been a regular sender of flowers to his _wife_. The one he'd acquired after he'd left his first family.

And yet, why hadn't Garcia been able to find any trace of said marriage?

* * *

Exhaustion overtook him that night, and Reid slept through until morning. But, he soon realized, there was a part of him hadn't been resting. As had so often happened when it was faced with the unknown, his mind appeared to have been working through the night, and some clarity was present when he awakened. While JJ was in the shower, he wrote her a note and slipped out. Texting Hotch that he would need to be late for the morning task force gathering, he left on an errand to confirm what his brain had already told him.

When he arrived at the FBI office an hour after the meeting had concluded, Reid found Rossi, Emily and JJ all buried in Maxfield's files. Hotch and Morgan had already headed out to the site where the most recent body had been found. They were still waiting for confirmation that it was Maxfield.

JJ couldn't quite read the look on her husband's face, but she was relieved to see some of the weariness of the previous days lifted from it. His note had only told her he had something to do, and not to worry. Which, of course, had set her to worrying fiercely. Her anxiety soothed by his safe arrival, she knew enough not to push him in public about where he'd been, or what he'd been doing.

Rossi simply pushed a box of files in Reid's direction.

"Here. Happy reading, Dr. Twenty-Thousand-Words-Per-Minute."

Reid smiled and accepted the cardboard gift. He'd lifted out a thick pile of folders and started rifling through them when Emily remarked, "I still don't get it. How do you do that?"

"Do what?" Reid hadn't even looked up.

"That." She pointed at him, and the papers in front of him. "You've just gone through what it's taken me a full hour to do."

"I'm only looking for four words, right? The names of the clients the two IRS agents had in common with Maxfield. So I don't have to process all the words, I just have to word-find."

Rossi looked askance at him. "I would think that's a different skill from speed reading." Wondering if they were discovering yet another genius super-power.

Reid shrugged. "It is."

Rossi hid his smile behind a folder. Once upon a time, Reid would have been self-conscious about his prowess in almost anything. His genius, and his related skills, were a large part of what had set him apart from others for much of his life. They'd contributed greatly to his being bullied as a child...and, sometimes, as an adult...and thus, his gifts had become a source of insecurity. That he could now so easily acknowledge one of them spoke to the growth in confidence of the young man. And, Rossi knew, much of that growth in confidence was because of the love and support of the woman sitting across from him. The childless senior profiler felt an almost paternal pride in his two youngest colleagues.

Emily had been studying Reid ever since he'd joined them at the conference table. She didn't see any overt signs of upset or distress. He didn't seem more anxious than the case warranted. In fact, he seemed a little more animated than he had yesterday. Her curiosity got the better of her, and she gave in to it.

"So, Reid…are you going to tell us why you missed the meeting this morning? Where were you?"

Just briefly, Reid stiffened. He'd been planning to keep it to himself for a while, feeling as though he'd not quite fully absorbed it. But they _were_ in the middle of an investigation, and one never knew what would turn out to be important. Slowly, he pushed back from the table and looked around at each of the others.

"I was at Bennington."

* * *

"It's pretty much like the other sites, Hotch. No sign of restraints, yet the ME says this one died of dehydration, too."

The two men had gone over every square inch of the evidence grid, and Morgan couldn't see anything that made this location any different from the ones where the first two bodies had been found.

Hotch shielded his eyes against the bright sun. Even sunglasses were no match for the intensity of the light. Instinctively, he moved into the shade of a very large boulder. And then, immediately, understood.

"Were the other locations exactly like this? The rough terrain? The rocks?"

Morgan read the idea in his superior's mind. "You think he used the shade for himself? While he stayed with them and watched them dry out?"

"If the other sites were anything like this one, the unsub could have had protection and shade for himself. Look, here…..there's a little rock ledge for him to rest himself on."

Morgan shook his head, more in disgust than in disagreement. "He must have had a weapon, then. Or he incapacitated them in some way the ME hasn't found yet. Are we still waiting on toxicology?"

"The preliminaries are negative, but the full panel will take another week."

"Well, however he kept them here…..letting them bake in the sun like that….that's torture. It would have been kinder if he'd _bled_ them dry…"

Morgan cut off his words as the two men shared an 'aha' moment. They'd just found their profile.

* * *

"Our unsub is organized, and he's angry. He's punishing his victims for perceived wrongs, and doing to them what he feels has been done to him."

Hotch got them started on the profile. Most of the team were meeting with the task force and all available units from the LVPD and Nevada State Police. Only Reid was missing, holed up in the conference room with the remainder of Maxfield's files. He'd taken over the review of them from the others.

Rossi took it up from Hotch. "Of course, we don't mean he's been tortured in the desert. But we do think he feels as though he is a victim, and he's seeking revenge."

Emily clarified. "He feels as though the government, or more specifically, the Internal Revenue Service, has gutted him financially. Bled him dry, so to speak. And he's turned that into a metaphor."

"Which means he's got some degree of intelligence, probably some higher education, maybe even an advanced degree," added Morgan.

One of the LVPD cops spoke up. "It doesn't take a college degree to kill somebody and rip their heart out."

Hotch acknowledged the point, but added, "Metaphor is a sophisticated concept. To actualize it with a behavior requires higher order thinking, no matter how violent."

Emily added, "So we think our unsub may be employed in a white collar job, possibly a professional, and was probably in a higher income bracket."

"The more you make, the more you stand to lose." Rossi explained the logic of it. "And the angrier you get when you have to pay the piper."

"If he's that crazy and angry about finances, I guess I get why he might have wanted to rip his victim's heart out," said a state trooper, " but what about the tongues?"

Morgan fielded that one. "He thinks they lied to him. Or ratted him out to the feds. We're looking for someone who underwent an investigation and either owed the IRS a lot of money….or maybe was even put away for it."

Hotch assured them of the progress the team had been making. "We've got a short list of client names overlapping among the three victims. We're working now to see which fits the profile."

Throughout the briefing, JJ had been having difficulty keeping her mind on the task at hand. She kept throwing glances in the direction of the conference room, concerned about her husband. His morning excursion, and the bits of new information that had been coming in all day, were bound to have his emotions in turmoil.

Just as the large group was about to disburse, Reid rushed out from the conference room, file folder in hand.

"Got him!"


	16. Chapter 16

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 16**

Marcus Carmichael was his name. Like the three other individuals on the short suspect list, the once-successful entrepreneur had been audited by victim number one, Stephen Davidovitch. Upon Davidovitch's retirement, victim number two, Jerry Farrell, had taken over the case for the IRS. Carmichael had sought legal representation from Max Maxfield. Unlike the other three individuals, Marcus Carmichael's case had already reached a disposition. A highly unfavorable one.

"Garcia helped me look at his early employment records, and his health history. It looks like he went out on his own because he couldn't keep a job. Kept having blow-ups with his co-workers, and even with his supervisors. They actually called the police on him at his last job, because he threatened his boss….but the boss apparently didn't want any trouble, so he didn't press charges. That's why Garcia couldn't find an arrest record."

Reid was addressing his remarks to his team, but the entire task force was listening in.

"And the psychiatric records?" prompted Hotch.

"Eight months ago, he filled a prescription for quetiapine, more commonly known as Seroquel. It's used to treat schizophrenia, bipolar disorder, and several other conditions where there might be behavioral outbursts. The thing is, the prescription was for thirty tablets. It was refillable, but it was never refilled."

"Leaving him an unmedicated psychotic with a cause for resentment," mused Rossi.

"Exactly," agreed Reid.

Morgan already had his phone out. "You have an address for us, Penelope?" Remembering that he had a wider audience than usual, he opted for a more conventional form of address. As she gave the information to him, he repeated it aloud, for the benefit of the rest of the task force.

As Hotch opened his mouth to direct those assembled to their task, Reid called out once again.

"Wait!"

Many who had already turned to the door rotated themselves back around.

"Reid?"

"I had Garcia run one more thing. Before Maxfield went missing, he made a note in Carmichael's case record. Carmichael had planned to sue Maxfield for inadequate representation. That meant he must have hired another attorney. So I had Garcia look at court filings with Carmichael's name…..and we found his new attorney. The thing is, if the case still isn't going his way….and it looks like it's not…..Carmichael might be looking for another victim."

Hotch spent only a few seconds deciding. Then he split his team into thirds.

"Morgan, Prentiss, you'll go to Carmichael's address. Dave and I will cover the new attorney's office. JJ, Reid, you'll go to his home." And then he turned to the LV FBI task force leader to divide the rest of the task force.

As they headed out, Hotch managed a moment's exchange with Reid.

"I'm sorry I had to pull you away from…"

Reid's upraised hand stopped him. "We're all just doing our jobs, Hotch. I understand."

The life they were hoping to save might not have been William Reid's. But it was important to someone.

* * *

"So, was Bennington good news or bad news?" With the one case behind them, JJ wanted to probe Reid's state of mind.

He'd told them what he'd learned, but then they'd been distracted by the arrival of Hotch and Morgan, and the huddle that preceded them delivering the profile. With all the momentum shifted toward their primary case, Reid's news had been pushed to the background…..for all but Reid and JJ.

There had been too much radio chatter as the task force dispersed in search of their unsub. And, by tacit agreement, they'd put on their professional personas. Now that the unsub had been identified, the profiler couple would stick with the case at hand until its resolution.

In the end, it had been Hotch and Rossi who'd found the man, and just in time. Reid's surmise had been correct. Marcus Carmichael had been working with another attorney to appeal his case against the IRS. He'd been meeting at the attorney's office at the same time the FBI had called to caution the staff there. When a secretary interrupted their meeting to alert her boss that the FBI was on the phone, Carmichael erupted.

Hotch and Rossi arrived to find a hostage situation under way. Fortunately for the office staff, Rossi had, literally, written the book on hostage negotiation. And Carmichael had been afforded no time to protect his position. Rossi managed to attract the killer to an office window with the promise of showing his demanded escape vehicle. A Nevada State Police sniper took care of the rest.

The down side to how things played out was that there was no opportunity to formally interview their presumed killer, no chance of obtaining a confession. But what Morgan and Prentiss found at his home was eloquent in its testimony. Newspaper articles about his own case and many other tax disputes lined the walls of two rooms. A mound of hand-written, poorly-composed legal arguments topped a desk. In the garage, evidence of recently used camping equipment, including a bloody knife. Most telling of all was what was found in Carmichael's refrigerator.

Emily shivered as she told the rest. "In pickle jars. Like he was ready to eat them."

"He _did_ eat them, Emily. Remember? There were human bite marks on both the tongues and the heart tissue left at the scene." Reid reminded her.

They'd all had to try hard to erase a mental image of Carmichael feasting on the remains of his victims.

Hours later, the BAU had left the rest of the work to the crime scene investigation teams operating at both the law office and Carmichael's home. Hotch had sent them all off for some well-deserved rest. He had, notably, said nothing more about William Reid's disappearance.

Now, in the privacy of their hotel room, JJ probed her husband. She was concerned about how long it was taking him to respond, and repeated her question.

"Spence…..what did you think about Bennington?"

"It was…confusing, I guess. That's the only word that comes to mind." _Or heart, or anything else._

"What was it that made you think of it? I mean, you hadn't even seen the receipts yet."

He was stretched out on top of the bed, hands behind his head. "It was the only thing that made sense. It would have been obvious to me when I first found out about them, if I hadn't been so blinded by anger."

She sympathized. It was true. But his anger had been hard-earned, and well-placed. "I guess, even if you hadn't figured it out then, Garcia's not being able to find any records of another wedding should have been a big clue."

He gave her a look. "Tell me the truth. The rest of you had already figured it out…..right?"

JJ joined him on the bed and sat, looking down at him.

"Truth? I can't speak for any of the others…but it had crossed my mind."

He shifted to his side, the better to see her. "But you didn't want to say anything because you knew I'd reject the idea outright."

She shook her head. "I didn't say anything because I thought that, if it was true, we'd find out soon enough. And, if it wasn't, I didn't want us to be distracted from the rest of the case."

He stared at her for a moment, weighing her response. He knew he had a tendency to become petulant in any discussion about his father. He wasn't proud of it, but it was a reaction he'd simply not been able to overcome. Until now.

"I'm sorry if I've made it hard for you to talk to me, JJ. You shouldn't have to be afraid to bring something up just because you're worried about how I'll react."

She made light of it. "Are you saying you promise not to stamp your feet and slam the door?"

"I promise," he grinned. "If you promise not to send me to my room…..unless you're coming with me."

JJ pushed him over onto his back so she could lay her head on his chest. "I promise, too." She tilted her head up to look at him. "So, Dr. Norman was sworn to secrecy, huh?"

"He apologized. My mom told him she had a secret admirer and didn't want her son to know about it. Dr. Norman didn't see any harm in it, so he went along with her. And I didn't visit often enough to notice."

She heard the self-recrimination in his tone. He'd told her about his avoidance of Bennington. At first, it had been too emotionally taxing to witness the ongoing decline in his mother. And he'd been all too aware of his own risk of a similar fate. He actively avoided being exposed to a vision of what his adult life might be like. Over time, he'd been able to add 'too busy' into his list of excuses not to visit.

And yet, JJ knew Reid had loved his mother. Still did. He'd written her nearly every day, and thought of her often. In the final days of her life, JJ had been able to spend time with the woman who would, post-humously, become her mother-in-law. Diana had seen the connection between her son and JJ even before the two of them had, ample evidence that mother and son had managed to maintain their connection over miles, and years, of distance.

"You loved her, Spence. She knew that. That's all that matters."

She could feel his chin move as he nodded. "I did. I guess distance doesn't make it easier….but it doesn't make it impossible. Speaking of….."

"Ooh, that's right! What time is it?"

He looked at the digital alarm on the nightstand. "They should have been in bed an hour ago."

JJ pushed off the bed, heading for her tablet. "Except they're with their grandparents, who don't stand a chance against our children's wheedling. I'll bet they're still up."

She'd already entered the number.

"There, Meme. You push there."

"Oh….hello? Hello?"

They could hear Sandy, but their only visual was of an empty sofa. Then Henry's head filled the screen.

"Hi Mommy! Hi Daddy!"

JJ put out her palm and Reid slapped an imaginary bill into it. No bet.

"Henry, what are you doing up?" Even as the words left her mouth, JJ realized how reflexively maternal they were. 

_If you didn't expect him to be up, what were you calling him for?_

"It's Saturday, Mom. We watched a movie."

"Oh, gosh. We've been so busy, I didn't even know it was Saturday!"

Reid spoke up. "What did you watch, Buddy?"

"Air Bud. It's about this dog that looks just like Casey. And he learned how to play basketball! Can we get a basketball hoop, Dad? I wanna teach Casey to play!"

His parents chuckled. "Maybe when we get home, okay, Henry Bud?"

"Daaadddyyyyyy!" Rosie's volume appeared to increase as she toddled across the room. Her momentum overcame her power to stop, and she practically knocked Henry off his feet as she appeared on their screen.

"Rosie! How's my girl?"

"Hi Daddy! Hi Mommy!"

"Hi, Sweetheart…did you have fun today?" JJ took maternal inventory. No visible bumps, bruises or scrapes. Must have been a good day.

Big nod from both kids. "We play outside," explained Rosie.

"And we had ice cream!" added the gastronomically-pleased Henry.

"Yum!" agreed his sister.

"Hello, Sweetheart," the elder mother addressed her own daughter as JJ had Rosie. "How are things going there? You both look tired."

"We are, Mom. But it's par for the course. The good news is that we wrapped the case….well, one of the cases….today. We're not sure yet what comes next."

They hadn't discussed it, but JJ assumed she and Reid would ask to stay in Las Vegas on personal time, to continue searching for William. She knew her unit chief well enough to assume it would be granted.

"We'll have more information by tomorrow. We'll give you a call in the morning to let you and Dad know. Speaking of Dad…..where is he?"

"Right here, Pumpkin." Charles appeared on the screen, wiping his hands on a rag. "I was fixing the chain on Henry's bicycle. It came a little loose today."

"Little Man?"

Henry heard the question his mother hadn't asked, and pushed his way to the front of the crowd in the Reid living room. He lifted his pajama leg to show her.

"It's a big one!"

JJ made sure her son saw her cringe at the size of the scrape on his knee. "You must be very brave, Henry. Does it hurt?"

"Only a little." At which Rosie bent over and kissed Henry's knee, producing smiles and 'awww's all around.

"Rosie Magic Lips is making it all better, aren't you Rosie?" beamed her father. Years earlier, his heart had been touched by the empathy of the young Henry, and he was happy to see the trait running in the family.

After a few more tidbits about how the family had spent their day, the call was ended with a round of good night's and 'I love you's. JJ promised her father a solo phone call in the morning, so they could speak more freely.

Once they'd ended the call, Reid took JJ by the shoulders. "You don't have to stay here with me, you know. I can handle it. You miss the kids, and they miss you."

"Wasn't there something about 'for better or for worse'? And besides, you and the kids miss each other, too. If I stay to help, maybe we can find your dad faster and then we can all be together again."

Unstated was the impossibility of knowing if William Reid would be found alive or dead. But it was the element that brought urgency to the search.

Reid expelled a deep breath. "You know what? You're right. We did say 'for better or for worse'. It's time for something 'better'. And besides, I need it. Seriously, I need it. So…can I show you something?"

She didn't understand. "Of course….but, what?"

"I don't want to tell you. I want to show you." He grabbed her by the hand. "Come on."

* * *

They'd taken one of the SUVs on loan from their Las Vegas colleagues. An hour later, Reid's eidetic memory told him exactly where to go off road. He purposely led them away from the crime scenes, and toward a bluff he'd noticed during both of his earlier excursions with Morgan.

In the seat next to him, JJ looked around at the great expanse of …..nothing.

"I wish I could see this in the daylight. In the dark, it seems like we're out in the middle of nowhere."

He chuckled. "It's exactly the same in the daylight, trust me. Because we _are_ in the middle of nowhere."

"Hmm. You know, when I was growing up, we were in a pretty rural area. You saw where my parents lived, but I've never taken you to where my grandparents had their farm. It was a good size, so their nearest neighbors were miles away. But there were crops, and trees, and hills…..things that made it feel less open, less…..isolated. Here, it feels so different. So….alone."

He knew what she meant, because he felt it too. Even riding together with someone he loved, the sheer scale of their surroundings was intimidating. But there was something else about it, and he wanted to show her.

"We're almost there. Just wait until we get behind that bluff."

They rode along in silence for a few moments more, each lost in thought. When Reid finally maneuvered the SUV to the place he'd sought, he shut off the engine. And then the headlights.

"Sit here for a few minutes. Let your eyes adjust."

In the near total-darkness, JJ realized her husband had purposely used the landscape to obscure the lights of the city behind them. While she waited for her eyes to make their accommodation, she wondered.

"Is this where you used to come with your dad and your uncle?"

"I think it must have been around here somewhere. I was pretty young. I don't think I'd quite mastered the eidetic stuff yet."

"Mastered?"

"Yeah. It was always there, of course. You either have it or you don't. But I learned along the way how to really use it. How to imprint a mental picture of something, so I could go back and visit it later. There are parts of those camping trips that have come back to me visually, but not nearly as much as if they had happened when I was a little bit older."

She brought up the topic she knew had to be foremost in his mind, because it was foremost in hers.

"Your dad was sending your mom flowers all that time."

"And I didn't know. I only know, for sure, that he never sent them to our home, before I …..before Bennington."

"Maybe he knew they wouldn't be welcomed."

Reid was silent a moment, thinking. "More like he knew his son would reject them. And when he knew I was out of the way, he started sending them directly to her."

"So…does that mean he still loved her?"

"No!" Then….."I don't….I don't know." After another long silence, Reid added, "I hope I didn't cause her pain, JJ. I hope I didn't keep her from something that might have made her happy, all those years."

JJ closed her eyes. Sometimes her husband's propensity for taking on the sins of others could be exhausting .

"Spence, don't. You can't know what would have happened, because it didn't. And you certainly weren't responsible for what your father _might_ have thought _might_ have happened if he'd sent her flowers. Just like you weren't responsible," she said with force, to make her point, "for his deciding to leave you in the first place."

Reid played with his lower lip, as he so often did when he was thinking. "I wonder how he knew how I felt. How resentful I'd gotten. It was different when it actually happened. I was upset, I was crying, I was scared. I begged him to stay with us."

JJ had never heard the story of the actual separation. It had always seemed too sensitive. And it had been too far in the past to matter. But recent circumstances had brought it back to prominence.

"What did he say to you?"

"He didn't say anything. He just stared at me. At the time, I remember thinking that he hated what he saw, that I was at least a part of the reason he wanted to leave. But now….."

She finished it for him. "Now you wonder if he just couldn't manage to speak."

Her eyes had adjusted to the dark enough to allow her to see that her husband was near tears.

"Spence…"

He swallowed before he spoke. "I can't imagine how it must have felt. I mean…..just the thought of leaving Henry, or Rosie, and knowing I wouldn't see them again…..let alone that it would be my idea. I can't even conceive of it."

She leaned over to kiss his cheek. "Thank God."

"But….the flowers…it feels like they change everything. Like I need to think it all through again. Maybe I got it all wrong."

JJ realized the irony. For several years, she'd been encouraging Spence to forgive his father, if only for his own sake. Now it was she who had trouble with the idea.

"He still left you, Spence. Alone, with no one to take care of you except each other."

"I know. That's what makes it so hard to understand. That's what…..that's why I needed to come out here. And then I wanted to show it to you."

"Well, we're here. What do you want to show me?"

In reply, he reached up and shut off the overhead compartment light before opening his door. JJ followed suit and met him in front of the SUV.

"This. This is what I wanted you to see." He tilted her head upward.

If the backyard patio served as Reid's chapel, then the desert was a virtual cathedral. Every bit of sky was filled with starlight, from the apex to the horizon. There were even star clouds to be seen, an occasional meteor shooting among them.

"Oh, my God," she gasped.

"Exactly." He whispered it. It didn't feel right to speak out loud.

She felt the same way. Softly, she said, "I feel so small."

He pulled her to lean back against him and wrapped his arms around her. "But not alone."

She let her weight fall against him. "Not alone. Spence, it's beautiful. So amazing. But so humbling at the same time."

"Maybe that's what brings me to them. Knowing how many there are, and how old they are. How long ago that light left them, just so we could see it. My problems are very small, when I measure them on the scale of the universe."

They were quiet for a long time after that. JJ was sure her husband was praying, and then she felt a relaxation in his muscle. His arms still enfolded her, but the tension was released from them. There was something about being alone with the man she loved, under this brilliant canopy of stars. JJ felt like she was melting into the moment, melting into him.

She turned, still in his arms, and drew him down until their lips met. It was long, and sweet, and tender, and suddenly she wanted more.

"Spence…." she was nearly breathless.

He read her correctly, but he knew something she didn't.

She misread his hesitance, thinking he was worried about the rocky ground below them.

"There's got to be a tarp or something in the back. We can kick the rocks out of the way and lay it down."

"That's not it."

"What, then? We're all alone out here, under the stars…."

"Except for Hadrurus arizonensis."

"Had….what? Who?"

"Hadrurus arizonensis. The giant desert hairy scorpion. It's really only about five and a half inches, so it's not like it could eat us. But it does bite. And it comes out at night."

She was back in the SUV before his final syllable echoed down. But this time she was in the back seat. Reid joined her from the other side.

"Can they get in here?"

Reid told himself it was only a little white lie, and for a good cause.

"Nope. We're good."

JJ pushed him off the seat long enough to stretch out beneath him. That's when she noticed their SUV had a moon roof. He followed her eyes overhead, and smiled, flicking the small hatchway open before returning his attention to his wife. The two became lost in one another, setting aside their worries for another day.

In the vastness of the desert, under the imposing panoply of the night sky, they no longer felt alone, but filled, with one another. Their love-making became an exchange of hope, and strength and love, enough to sustain through whatever they would face in the days ahead.


	17. Chapter 17

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 17**

The sky was just beginning to brighten, and they were just pulling into the hotel parking lot when both of their cells sounded a text.

JJ looked at her screen and reported, "Hotch. He wants the team to meet in the in the lobby in 45 minutes."

"Whew," Reid said, in mock relief, "For a second there, I thought it was the Vegas office, wondering if they were ever going to see their SUV again."

"Ha. Well, at least they can know it was put to good use."

"Do you think anyone else has ever….."

"Well, it _is_ Vegas. Who knows?"

Reid shut off the engine and then turned to his wife. "Thanks for coming with me. I needed that….well, and _that_ ….all of it." He kissed her in punctuation.

"It was beautiful, Spence. I don't think I'll ever forget what that sky looked like. It was….incredible." Sorry not to be able to find a better word.

"Someday, I want to show it to the kids. I want them to have a sense of how big the universe is, and how amazing it is that we're a part of it. How blessed we are to be _aware_ of it, you know?"

That brought out her sunshine smile. Since the moment they'd learned of William's disappearance, Reid had seemed muted, almost afraid to fully connect with what he was feeling inside. But now, refreshed from their night in the desert, he seemed to have recovered something of himself. The land, and the stars, and the vastness of it all resonated in her husband in a way that almost nothing else did. Of course she would want their children to see it. It would tell them more about their father than she could ever know how to express.

_After we find William, we'll bring them out here. Again, and again, and again._

* * *

They had time to shower and dress before heading down to the lobby. They knew the others would understand their plans when they saw the two young profilers had come downstairs without their luggage. But JJ and Reid weren't prepared to see that none of the others had their luggage, either.

Hotch motioned the group into a small café off the hotel lobby. "We might as well have breakfast."

Once they were seated, he started in, directing his words to Reid and JJ.

"I know you want to stay to look for William. You've each got some personal time available, so I've taken the liberty to put in for leave."

"Thanks, Hotch." Reid wasn't surprised. Yet. Then Hotch's eyes started moving around the table, looking at the others.

Each of them, in turn, said, "I've got some leave coming, too." "Me too." "Me three."

Hotch's gaze had made it all the way back to Reid and JJ. "And I make four."

JJ's eyes glistened as she smiled at the table full of the best friends in the world. She reached for her husband's hand, and found it trembling.

As was his voice. "You don't have to….you don't…..but….thanks. Thank you." Knowing, from experience, that it would do no good to turn them down.

Rossi defused the emotion. "You're welcome. Now, who wants pancakes?"

* * *

They spent the meal planning their next moves. Reid made sure they were all up to date on the recent discoveries in the case.

"The university has to have something to do with it. It's where he was last seen, and where his car was found. One of the professors remembered my uncle from years ago, and, by extension, my dad. But he was adamant that he hasn't seen him since then."

"And we believe him?" Morgan wasn't so sure.

"He seemed pretty genuine to me, but, you're right, I guess we should look into him."

Emily wanted clarification. "Are you thinking that your father's disappearance, and your uncle's death….what, almost thirty years ago?...are you thinking they're connected?"

Reid's voice was filled with the frustration he felt. "I don't know what to think. Until now, I'd thought my Uncle Daniel committed suicide. It sure sounded like that's what my mom thought, too. Although, if I recall our conversation correctly, I don't think she ever actually said."

"Should we look at the police file from your uncle's case, then? Assuming there is one, of course." Rossi knew the file, if it still existed, would be painfully thin. The police would have been involved because of the gunshot wound, but if it was an 'obvious suicide', they would have conducted only a cursory investigation at best.

"I know from the Riley Jenkins case that they hold records for a pretty long while. There might still be something." Reid agreed with the plan.

Rossi sighed dramatically. "All right. Old files for the old guy. I'll see what I can come up with."

JJ smiled at the self-deprecation, and then informed the others. "We've already asked Garcia to generate a list of everyone who was in the department at the time Daniel was there. Then, of course, we need to try to track them down."

"I'm sure she's up to it. Aren't you, Baby Girl?" Morgan had brought Garcia into the conversation electronically.

"Not only am I up to it, but I will have names and addresses for you forthwith. Provided…."

"Provided what, Pen?" asked JJ.

"Provided the university has scanned in records going back thirty years. I'm past their security, and looking….. looking…..look…..argh!"

"No luck, huh?" Emily interpreted.

"They're only back twenty-three years. It looks like some of this was entered recently, so they're still working on it. But….no go, boys and girls."

This time it was Emily who sighed. "Well, if Rossi can dig through old police files, I guess the least I can do is visit the university library. They've got to have copies of all the yearbooks, don't they?"

Over the phone, Garcia shrieked. "Exactly! And they should have the full list of faculty and students from then, shouldn't they?"

JJ wasn't so sure of their plan. "Emily, do you know how many students there are at UNLV?"

"Twenty-seven thousand, eight-hundred forty-eight, last semester," offered her helpful husband.

JJ was used to challenging him. "All right, Big Guy. How many in 1983?"

Undeterred, he responded, "Less than half that number. Eleven thousand, one hundred seventy eight."

Morgan was dumbfounded. "How do you _know_ that?"

"I'd already thought of looking at the yearbooks, and found some information on line. But, don't worry, Emily. The yearbook lists them by major."

"All right. Penelope, you and I will have a phone date. I'll scan and send you everything I find."

Morgan volunteered to go back to the science building and conduct additional interviews. His focus would be dual: finding out who may have seen William Reid there recently, and who may remember either William or Daniel from thirty years ago.

Hotch turned back to Reid. "What about you?"

"I think I need to go back to my dad's place. I only focused on the journal the last time I was there. I need to look around more. Those notes we found in his files…..they didn't seem related to his business. I need to see if there's anything in his home that can tell me more about that. And I should probably look at his car, as well."

Hotch nodded his agreement. "All right. JJ, why don't you go with Reid. I'll need to work with LVPD to unravel some bureaucracy first, to give us access to both. Let me make a few calls. That should be enough to get you started. Then I'll see if I can work out an…..agreement…with them." One that would allow the BAU freedom of movement, but still keep the integrity of the evidence, should it become apparent that a crime had been committed.

Before the group dispersed, Reid felt a need to say something more. "Guys...I really appreciate this. I know you all have better things to do with your time….especially in Las Vegas."

Several of them chuckled, and Morgan responded, "Our time in Vegas isn't over yet, Pretty Boy. After we find your dad, alive and well, I intend to 'stay and play'."

"Ooh, me too!" said Emily.

"Princess, do you remember the last time we stayed an extra night in Vegas?"

"Morgan, I have no memory of that entire trip. Did I have a good time?"

* * *

JJ held her palm out toward her husband. "I'll drive. You think."

She knew a distracted Reid was never all that good behind the wheel. She'd often wondered if that was why he'd relied mostly on public transportation in his single years.

He readily obliged her, wanting to start in on the various puzzles right away. But there was something else he needed to say first.

"Did you know they were going to do that?"

"'Know', as in, had prior information? Or 'know', as in, they're our friends and they love us, so what else would they do?"

He gave a sad smile. "I guess I should have known, too. It's just that I don't like to presume."

She knew that his early life had taught him not to rely on anyone, for anything, at any time. And he often had trouble letting go of that.

"It's not presuming when it's offered. You just accept, that's all."

"I know. Still….. they're great people, JJ. I am so lucky to have them in my life."

" _We're_ lucky to have them. And you're right…they are great people." She chanced a sideways glance at him. "So, do you really think we'll find something at your dad's?"

"I don't know. I only know that I looked through all of his work files for the last six months, and those two notes I found didn't seem related to anything there. It was almost as though he'd accidentally dropped them in, or maybe they got mixed in if he took work home with him."

"Are you convinced they were written by the same person?"

He nodded. "Yes. I'm sure of it. There was too much similarity in the structure of the letters for them to be from two different hands."

"So, it sounds like someone was threatening your dad, then, doesn't it? What did those notes say, exactly?"

"One said, ' _It happened before. It can happen again. Remember that._ ', and the other said ' _Leave it alone.'_ "

Taken alone the first message might have been one of encouragement. But, coupled with the other, it definitely came across as a threat.

"Spence, do you think these messages were about what happened to your uncle? Or do you think there was something else your dad was involved with?"

Reid could only shake his head. "That's why I need to take another look at his home, go through his papers. Dad's being at the university right before he disappeared could mean it's connected to Uncle Daniel, but I can't think of how. So maybe it's something else."

They were pulling into a parking space in front of William's condo, right next to a squad car belonging to LVPD. JJ recognized the officer's face and groaned.

"Oh, joy. Officer Guidry." The man who'd been so difficult when she'd visited the condo with Rossi. "Let's hope Hotch has had success smoothing the way."

The BAU agents exited their vehicle and met Guidry in the walkway.

The three nodded their acknowledgements of each other as Reid asked, "Did you bring the key?"

Guidry took his time extracting the item from his pocket. "I'll let you in."

JJ played him. "Thank you so much, Officer." As she and Reid followed him inside, they exchanged a look. _Power and control. The longings of a small man._

Reid didn't care, he didn't have an ego for that anyway. And, if it would let him have access to what he wanted, he would willingly cede control of the key to Officer Guidry.

JJ was more irked about it, having spent much of her early career reigning in just this kind of LEO who, left on his own, could easily hurt an investigation. But she was skilled at knowing just when, and how, to change the balance of power. If the time came when that change was needed, she could make it happen. Until then, she would join her husband in going along.

As he held the door for them, Guidry said, "I'm supposed to observe. The lieutenant wants this run as a potential crime scene. Even if this guy wasn't a part of the desert case, he's still missing, and a potential crime victim."

That was fine with Reid. If something had happened to his father, he would want to see justice served.

"Understood. Just as long as there aren't restrictions as to what we can look at."

Guidry started to open his mouth, but JJ decided to speak for him.

"I'm sure Officer Guidry received his instructions _after_ the meeting the FBI had with his lieutenant. Isn't that right, Officer?" Smiling sweetly.

Showing that he was intelligent enough not to jeopardize his career, Guidry returned a saccharine smile.

"Right."

Reid began to look around the main living space of the condo as he'd done on his first visit. But his inspection of the room had been cursory that day, as he had been intent on getting to see his mother's journal. Now he perused the bookshelves again, but this time pulled out most of the volumes, looking for loose papers or anything else that might have been slipped in between them. JJ started from the other end and did the same.

"He's as much of a reader as you are, Spence. If we have to start paging through each of these, we'll need reinforcements."

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that, then." He pushed the books in his hands back onto the shelves. "I hate to ask this, but would you mind if I looked around the rest of the place? I know it's a mindless task, but…"

"Say no more. I've got it." She lowered her voice so only he could hear her. "Since it's mindless, maybe I can get my friend over there to help."

Before he could respond, she'd raised her voice again. "Officer Guidry…..would you mind terribly if I asked you to help me out with this? Some of these hardcovers are pretty heavy, and I'm afraid I'll pull them right down on my head."

She winked at her husband as Guidry reacted to her appeal, exactly as she'd intended. Reid headed off to the bedroom, careful to suppress his grin until he was past the LVPD officer.

_Whew! I'm glad she's on my side!_

* * *

Reid had no luck in William's bedroom. The box JJ had found, containing the journal, was the only one on the closet shelf. There was nothing under the bed, nothing hidden among the clothes in his drawers. Reid wandered into the kitchen and started opening and closing cabinet doors and drawers, finding only the usual items there. He even checked William's freezer, aware that some people used it to hide valuables. _Not a good idea. I think all the thieves know about it by now._

He opened what looked like a steel exterior door, and found that it led to a one-car garage. The condo was built on slab, so there was no basement. In compensation, the garage was overly deep, allowing room for a laundry area, a very small workbench…..and a file cabinet.

The cabinet was old, and locked only with a combination padlock. Without even a thought as to why he knew, Reid worked the numbers of his mother's birthday through the rotating dial….and met with failure. He tried a second time, reversing the numbers. Failure again. Finally, he tried another permutation of the same numbers…..and the lock fell open in his hands.

Each of the four drawers of the cabinet held files. Two drawers held tax returns going back years. A third held the papers for the condo, some medical reports and insurance forms, and an envelope labeled with 'Last Will and Testament'. Reid held the envelope for a long moment, torn about looking inside. Whatever he found there, William's own accounting of who and what he held dear, might tell him everything he needed to know about his father. And yet, in many respects, it felt as though he was going through the belongings of a stranger, one whose private things he had no right to see.

Putting the envelope aside, Reid continued through the drawer. He found his parents' marriage license, but no decree of divorce. There was a deed for a cemetery plot, and a paper acknowledging that the first to be entombed in the plot was Daniel Reid. The plot would hold three, apparently. Reid wondered if his father intended to be buried with his younger brother, and then flashed on a vision of attending that event in the not-too-distant future. And he was surprised to feel sadness at the idea.

The final drawer seemed to be devoted to non-official personal items. His own birth notice, in the Las Vegas paper. A small column about local scholarship recipients, including the name of Daniel Reid. The same picture that was framed in William's living room, of Reid's Little League team. Apparently it had run in the local paper as well. A thick sheaf of papers that seemed to be printouts of all the items he'd googled on his son…..multiple graduations, academic honors, theses, published journal articles, even cut-outs of articles about cases the BAU had been involved with.

_I don't think I'll ever get it, Dad. Why did you want a virtual son, when you could have had a real one?_

The final items in the drawer, either the first or the last to be put in there, were odd. They were seemingly unrelated to anything else in the entire cabinet and, as far as Reid knew, unrelated to his family. Some were obviously copies made from older newspaper articles, and some were cut from more recent publications. The older articles seemed to tell the story of a breakthrough discovery, a form of lens development, made at UNLV. The breakthrough had apparently contributed to the success of some phase of the Manahattan Project, allowing the correct redirection of the energy of the explosion. The lens was reported to have been developed by a Dr. Claus Albrecht, who, according to the recent articles, had long since retired from UNLV. The creator of the Albrecht lens was apparently quite renowned.

Reid combed his memory, but could not find the name 'Albrecht' anywhere. If this was a friend of his father, perhaps they'd met after William had abandoned his young family. Reid looked back for the dates, and saw that the older article was from a time when William was still with them. Given another few seconds, his brain realized something else.

_This must have been not all that long after Daniel died. A few months, at most._

The more recent article mentioned Dr. Albrecht's returning to the university to be honored at the opening of a new lab that had apparently been funded by, and named after, him. It had been published in early December, citing a December 30 date for the dedication.

_Right in the window when Dad disappeared._

Deciding to show it to JJ, and to have Garcia start researching Albrecht, Reid brought the papers back inside the home. Once in the brighter interior light, something else became obvious. There was the faint marking of a pencil, underlining a section of writing about Albrecht's major contribution to the world of physics. And an equally faint 'No!' written into the margin.

In a second, it all came together for Reid. He raced into the living room, waving the papers.

"JJ…I think I know what this is about!"


	18. Chapter 18

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 18**

JJ's head whipped around when she heard Reid call her name. She quickly replaced the books she'd been holding when she noticed he was waving a piece of paper.

"What? What did you find?"

As anxious as he was to share his discovery, Reid was hesitant to speak in front of a stranger. JJ saw his eyes move to Guidry and back.

"It's okay, Spence. We've bonded."

"Bonded?"

Guidry looked an apology at Reid as he pulled his phone from his pocket and pressed the screen. He moved over toward Reid to show him.

"My kids. A boy and a girl. Just a little bit older than yours, it sounds like."

Reid looked at the photo, then to JJ, and finally to Guidry. He would never cease to be amazed at his wife's skills of persuasion.

"They're cute."

Guidry's face broke into an unfamiliar smile. "So are yours." As he put the phone back into his pocket, he offered Reid the same apology he'd already given to JJ.

"Sorry for earlier. And for the last time, too. Last couple of times, in fact. I have a tendency to be defensive, I guess."

"No need to be defensive with us, Frank. Remember, we're only called in to help, not to take over." JJ's tone made it sound like they were going over ground already covered.

"Yeah, I know, you're right. I guess I just thought the FBI would come in and show up the municipal guys."

"Las Vegas isn't exactly a small city," observed Reid, "You've got pretty big time cases here. And, besides, I thought you guys worked pretty closely with our local office."

A lot of the crime in Las Vegas crossed state lines.

"Some divisions do. Just not usually mine. Anyway, I hope we can start over."

Reid gave him a small grin, feeling magnanimous since he'd made his discovery. "No hard feelings."

JJ was satisfied with the truce, and encouraged her husband.

"So….you were saying? What did you figure out?"

Reid positioned himself between the two to show them the articles he'd found.

"I think this first article came out not too long after my Uncle Daniel was working there. Not long after he died," he corrected.

JJ wasn't sure where he was going with this. "And you think he knew this guy? The physicist, Albrecht?"

"I'm sure of it. He was working at the lab at the same time. This older article was an announcement of Albrecht's upcoming retirement, but it's dated after my uncle's death. They had to have known each other. Uncle Daniel might even have been working in Albrecht's lab."

JJ still wasn't sure it had anything to do with their case. "But, why do you think…..Oh."

He'd just put the more recent article on top of the older one.

Guidry commented this time. "Same guy, nearly thirty years later. Must be….what does it say…..95 now? How does that help?"

Reid was insistent. "Because he was going to be in town for the dedication right at the time my dad went missing. Look at the date."

Guidry played devil's advocate. "So, maybe your father knew him from back then and decided to go see him when he was in town. I still don't see how that's helpful."

Reid was undeterred. "I don't know if my dad knew him, but he knew _about_ him. Look." He pointed out the faint underlining and the 'No!' in the margin.

Guidry shook his head. "I don't understand."

Neither did JJ. "Spence?"

"Don't you see? He was saying there was something not right about Albrecht. About him being honored."

As much as she wanted to support her husband, JJ feared he was on the wrong track. "Are you saying you think your dad had information about Albrecht? That he went there to confront him?"

Guidry may have atoned for his earlier behavior, but he still had no qualms about disagreeing. "Like what? It says here his money was legit…..it came from some patent or something. Besides, _the guy is ninety-five years old_. What could he possibly do to your father?"

Reid deflated. "I don't know. That's the piece I can't figure out."

That drew a snort from Guidry. "Like the rest of it makes sense? I don't know, man. I get that you really need a breakthrough, but I'm not sure you've found it."

JJ wasn't either. But she eased the blow with a suggestion.

"Why don't we take these articles back to the team and see what we come up with?"

* * *

Aaron Hotchner could be persuasive when he wanted to be. He wasn't positioned to commandeer anyone or anything at the Las Vegas office of the FBI, but he knew how to finesse a request. Consequently, and despite the fact that they didn't have an 'official' case yet, the BAU were granted use of a conference room, several computers, and phones. Already settled into the conference room, he greeted each member of the team as they trickled back from their various tasks.

The others had been alerted that Reid had come across something, but not what it might be. Once they were all gathered, Hotch started the non-official meeting in his usual official manner. At his nod, Reid told the story of finding the articles and what he thought they might mean. When he was done, a silence filled with indecision hung in the air. None of them were sure they were on board with him.

JJ and Reid had already phoned both Morgan and Garcia to explain that they needed additional information, and about whom. If either of their friends thought Reid was off base in his thinking, they declined to say so.

_He's sounded crazy before, and been right_ , thought Morgan _. Maybe I should start thinking that way, too._ Decision made, he began his report.

"I asked Professor Dahlgren about Albrecht. He remembers the guy, thought he was pretty full of himself. I guess Dahlgren started with the department after Albrecht had 'come to glory'," making finger quotes.

"Come to glory?" repeated JJ.

"Yeah. It sounds like he was a pretty key player in moving the Manhattan Project along." Morgan got up to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Reid interjected. "The Albrecht lens. It wasn't really a lens as we picture one. It was a way to focus the energy waves of the smaller explosions that triggered the atomic one."

Morgan nodded as he stirred his cup of brew. "That's what Dahlgren said. But apparently it wasn't known until years later, because everything about the Manhattan Project was top secret. And all it got Albrecht was fame, not fortune."

JJ was confused. "I thought we read he'd gotten a patent on it. Wouldn't he have made money from that?"

Her husband advised, "That's what I thought the article was talking about, too. But then I remembered that everything developed under a government contract belongs to the government. He couldn't have gotten a patent on it. And he wouldn't have made any money on it."

"So the patent in the article had to be for something else?" Emily wanted to make sure she was following him.

Reid nodded. "I asked Garcia to research it for us."

Rossi had been holding his tongue, not wanting to discourage the young man of whom he was so fond, but not at all sure Reid wasn't diverting the team from more significant leads. _Of course, that would mean we'd_ found _more significant leads._ He decided to enter the conversation.

"Don't universities insist on their employees' work product belonging to the school? How would Albrecht make any money on anything he'd developed in the lab?"

Hotch fielded that one. "I was a prosecutor, as you know, so patent law isn't my area, and neither is contract law. But I don't believe universities had realized the potential gain from their faculty's discoveries back then. It may have been emerging in the 80's, but I doubt it was standard in a faculty contract."

Rossi stayed with the theory. "All right, so we're saying that Albrecht may have discovered something else, and gotten a patent on it, making him rich. But why are we thinking that this might have had anything to do with William's comment on the article?"

"I think my dad knew something about the discovery. Like maybe it wasn't really made by Albrecht."

"Spence…..are you saying that Dr. Albrecht stole the idea from someone?" If so, JJ knew exactly who Reid thought that 'someone' might be.

He confirmed it for her. "I think he might have stolen it from my uncle."

Seeing the quizzical…and outright unbelieving….looks on the others' faces, Reid went on to explain.

"My Uncle Daniel was a genius, too. He was in graduate school….MIT…. when he was only nineteen. And he was back here in Vegas that summer because he was interning with UNLV. They'd had an exchange program with MIT since the days of the Manhattan Project. Don't you see? It all fits!"

Morgan didn't see at all, but he tried to be gentle. "Reid, all we really know….maybe…. is that your uncle knew Albrecht when the professor was at UNLV, back in the day. And we're only supposing that from the timeline."

Emily spoke up. "I can confirm that. I went through all the yearbooks from 1980 to 1990. Reid, did you know your uncle spent time with the department four years before he died? He didn't make the official list, but there was a photo with him in it. The caption read, "Daniel Reid, fifteen year old future physicist. We grow them young here in Nevada."

Reid was surprised by his own reaction. He'd known his uncle was a genius, but to have it made concrete, to hear something of the young Daniel Reid's experience, moved him. For Spencer Reid, 'genius' had never seemed unusual. It was just how he experienced the world. It was him, inherently him. As he grew up, he came to realize it as a gift not given to many others, and one that carried a certain responsibility. But he'd more than once wanted to reject that gift, because it had also become a source of unrelenting pain and isolation.

Emily's report brought it all home to Reid. In losing Daniel from his young life, he'd lost someone who might have truly understood, who might have helped him navigate the treacherous waters of middle and high school unscathed. _Or maybe just 'less-scathed'_. Reid didn't quite remember mourning the loss of Daniel as a child. But he mourned him now.

"Emily, did you happen to…"

She handed him a piece of paper before he had a chance to finish. "Yes….I copied it for you."

He took the photocopy and stared at it. JJ could see he needed time, so she moved the conversation along for him.

"So, was Daniel in the later yearbooks?"

Emily nodded. "He was listed in the 1985 and 1986 books." She shuffled through the copies she'd made of the department member lists from each of the ten years. "And so was Albrecht. He was already on the list in the 1980 yearbook, but he came off the list in the same year your uncle did."

"So they had to have known each other. Reid's right about that." But Rossi wasn't sure he was right about anything else.

Emily decided to put into words what they were all thinking.

"So, Reid, are you saying that you believe Daniel may have made the discovery, but Albrecht took credit for it after Daniel died?"

Morgan added to the question. "And are you thinking that your dad somehow knew about it? That he knew it had been Daniel's discovery? And he went to confront Albrecht?"

Before Reid could answer, Rossi interjected. "But, if that's true…why did he let it go for so long? Why not confront him years ago?"

The question had certainly occurred to Reid as well. And there were many possible answers. But he'd settled on one. He gave it back to Rossi as a question.

"How often do you think a scientific discovery makes the news? There are literally hundreds, maybe even thousands, of discoveries made each day, around the world. Only a few are made public. Really, I don't think the public is all that interested in most of them."

"Not unless it's a new electronic gadget or something that makes their lives easier," agreed Emily.

Reid smiled his gratitude that she seemed to be going along with him and then continued.

"For all I know, Albrecht could have taken credit for something Uncle Daniel did, and no one realized at all. But maybe my dad found out, and decided to talk to him about it."

"But why, Reid?" Morgan wanted his 'little brother' to think it all the way through. "Did he want the money, your dad? From what we know of his lifestyle, it doesn't look like money was all that important to him. Why would he decide to confront Albrecht now?"

"And how would he have suddenly realized it in the first place?" Rossi thought it important for Reid to live in reality as well. "If it hadn't come up in all these years, why now?"

JJ worried as she saw her husband slouch in defeat.

"I don't know. I don't know any of it. And yet, I'm sure. It _has_ to be this. I don't know how I know, but it has to be. My dad was last seen at the science building, at the same time Albrecht would have been there. And he….Dad, that is…..was obviously upset by something in the article. It _has_ to be."

Hotch recognized Reid's posture and heard the desperation in his voice as well. It _had_ to be….because they didn't have anything else.

"Reid…" he started, but was interrupted by the sounding of his phone.

"What do you have Garcia?"

She sounded flustered. "First of all, do you know how many patents have been issued in the United States?"

Reid's response was automatic. "As of 2011, eight million." Smiles were suppressed around the table when he added, "I haven't kept up with it since then."

"Right! Well, let me tell you, boys and girls, this was no easy task. I had to write three different programs just to make sense of their search engine. And then…."

"Baby Girl, do you have anything?" Morgan responded to the growing anxiety visible on Reid's face.

"Sorry…yes! Yes, I do. Claus Albrecht actually has sixteen patents registered with the Office of Patents and Trademarks. They're all for some obscure something-or-other, and none of them sounded like anything anyone would ever have heard of. So I had to follow the trail of each of them to see what he might have made his money on, and…."

"Garcia…" Now Hotch was impatient as well. Notably, Reid hadn't said a word. He simply sat, gripping the edge of the table as if holding on to a lifeline. Hotch joined him in hoping Garcia was about to throw one.

"Right, sorry. So, there's one thing that looked promising, but the best I could do was to trace its sales and then match it to Albrecht's annual income. Did I mention I had to make a little…foray….into the IRS database? Just a little one, Sir, I promise."

"Never mind about that, Garcia. What did you find?"

"Well, it looks like Dr. Albrecht invented something that focused sound waves. Some kind of sonic lens, it was called. Which wouldn't have been interesting, except someone else figured out how to apply it in the medical field, and…."

"Lithotripsy!" Reid sat up straight in his chair as he shouted the word.

"Litho…what?" asked Rossi

"Lithotripsy. It's a noninvasive technique for treating things like gallstones and kidney stones. Sound waves are concentrated to create enough vibration to break the stones apart without requiring surgery."

"That would be a _huge_ moneymaker for whoever discovered it," remarked Emily. "And we're thinking Albrecht did it?"

"No, _I'm_ thinking Uncle Daniel did it. And Albrecht took credit," corrected Reid. "Garcia, what year did he file that patent?"

"It was…..oh. It was 1986."

Eyes met around the table. What had sounded crazy a few minutes ago was starting to make some sense. Rossi sat back and philosophized.

"You know what they say…follow the money."

JJ had been silent for a long time, focusing her attention on her husband and his reactions to the conversation. She was satisfied that he seemed a bit more animated now that his theory seemed to hold some weight. But there were still unanswered questions.

"Spence, we still don't understand how your dad might have found out about it. Unless you think he knew all this time, and simply didn't choose to battle with Albrecht. Is that it?"

"That's what I can't figure out. It feels like there's a missing piece."

Rossi hadn't reported on his morning yet. "Well, I'm afraid I can't help with that. As I expected, the police file on your uncle's death was thin. Three sheets thin. A one page case report, including an interview with the hiker who found him, an identification sheet signed by your dad, and the coroner's report. Nothing we didn't already know. The police and the coroner assumed suicide, so no further investigation was made."

Morgan had a little more information from his morning at UNLV.

"Professor Dahlgren knew about the dedication of the new lab, but he wasn't there for it. He suggested I talk with the university president, who'd hosted. Of course, he wasn't on campus today, so I didn't get so speak with him directly. But his secretary gave me a guest list from the event. It looks like Albrecht was there with his grandson, Karl, and his great-grandson, Kristian."

"Not his son?" clarified Emily.

"Deceased. Two years ago, heart attack." Morgan could see they were wondering, so he added, "I had Garcia check."

Hotch decided to recap what they knew. "So, we have some indication that William had some contention with Albrecht. And we know that at least three generations of the Albrecht family were at the same location where William's car was found, a day after he was seen entering the building where the lab was being dedicated. But we don't have…."

He was interrupted by the abrupt opening of the door to the conference room. All eyes turned in that direction, settling on one of the agents from the recent joint task force.

"Agent Hotchner, it looks like you won't have to investigate 'unofficially' any more. We've got a body."


	19. Chapter 19

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 19**

Rossi rode shotgun with Hotch, the better to keep an eye on their younger colleague in the back seat.

JJ had to sit on her hands to keep them from grabbing her husband's. Over their time together, she'd learned his penchant for isolating himself in a time of great stress. At first, it had seemed like a rejection….of her, of her sympathy, of her support. But she'd come to see it as a true need, and a part of his process of coping. He seemed to go deep inside, and then emerge with a little more steel in his spine, and a little more moxie to handle whatever was coming his way. She gathered it was a remnant of his childhood, when the only help he could ever rely upon came from within. She'd often pictured the child Spencer pulling away, isolating himself from everything around him, and then rummaging around inside to find his courage. It always made her smile, and cry, at the same time.

She'd begun watching the landscape to take her mind off the man sitting next to her in palpable, abject turmoil. Much sooner than she'd expected, she felt his hand rake against her arm, looking for her fingers. Quickly she placed her hand in his and squeezed her support. It seemed that, this time, the adult Spencer had emerged quickly. He'd found what he could, inside. And then he'd reached for what…and who…had become his true repository of courage, and silently thanked God that she'd reached back to him.

In the second SUV, two more agents tried to come to grips with their own emotions. Concern for their colleague, and guilt over possibly having been wrong about the original case, made for a very tense ride. They vented their frustration, sharing it with the others over an open cell connection.

"I don't get it." Even over the phone, the angry tone in Morgan's voice was clear. "Did we get this whole thing wrong? Everything about Carmichael pointed to him."

"We never did get a confession…." Emily started to point out, from the seat next to him.

The strength of Morgan's explosion was evidence of his frustration. "Emily, he had their hearts in goddamn pickle jars in his refrigerator! It _had_ to be him!"

From a few car lengths behind them, Hotch tried to calm his emotional agents.

"We don't know that this is related. Let's everybody keep their heads until we get to the scene."

As he turned to remark to his friend, Rossi used the opportunity to steal a glance into the back seat. He was relieved to see that Reid's color was returning, despite the tension still evident in the young man's features.

"It's a reasonable question, Aaron, don't you think? Carmichael died less than twenty four hours ago and, thanks to a tight-lipped task force, it hasn't even made the news cycle yet. It's too soon for a copycat."

"What about if he had an accomplice? A partner?" Emily ran some of the possibilities.

Morgan didn't think so. "Garcia would have found something. Someone else with a bone to pick with the IRS."

"Not necessarily, Derek." Rossi's years of experience contributed to his response. "All it takes is an idol, and a fan. A submissive accomplice might do anything with and for a dominant. Only the dominant needs the reason."

After a protracted period of disuse, Reid's voice cracked. "Hotch…..was everything….the same?"

_Was my father's heart ripped from his chest? Were his last words cut off with his tongue?_

The unit chief's eyes met Reid's in the rear view mirror. "We don't have details of the scene. Only that his body was found in the desert, in the vicinity of the visitor's center."

The location _was_ different, but not different enough. They'd supposed the unsub wanted William's body found sooner, perhaps as part of some sort of game he'd begun to play with the task force. All they knew was that a state trooper, called to the scene by a hiker, had identified William from the photo that had been circulating for much of the past week. Given the body's state of dehydration, the resemblance had been vague, and, thereby, suspect. DNA would have to provide conclusive evidence.

Once they were out of the range of any cell towers, the rest of the long ride took place in silence, each agent's thoughts wandering the realms of 'what-if' and 'what now'. And each of the others mindful of the present, and coming, anguish of one among them.

The SUVs had been to the desert so often in the past week that they could have navigated themselves to the spot. In contrast to the prior trips, however, this time the vehicles stopped at the visitor's center. Its parking lot had been empty before, but now it hosted a wide range of vehicles.

"The bod….the vic…." Rossi was mindful of his words, and having trouble finding anything that wouldn't contribute to Reid's pain. Finally, he settled on, "They must have found him much closer to the center than I thought."

As they pulled to a stop, four of the BAU team emerged quickly from their vehicles, but Reid was stayed by JJ's hand on his chest.

"Are you sure you want to do this? We can leave it to the others, Spence. No one would mind. I think they might even expect it."

He pressed her hand to his chest in understanding, but shook his head. "I have to." He could barely get it out. "I just….I have to."

As he opened the door, JJ did the same and ran around the vehicle to be at his side. She had to walk double time to keep up with his long stride, and they caught up with the others just a short way into the desert. She noticed each of the others eyeing Reid as they approached the scene, and knew each of them would do what they could to make this just a little bit less horrendous.

The others followed in his wake as Hotch pushed his way through the gathered crowd of FBI, state and local police, and various crime scene personnel. When they'd reached the center of the circle, the BAU team stopped abruptly. And looked around. And looked around again.

"Where's the body?" demanded Hotch. He was ready to roll some heads himself if they'd messed up this particular crime scene.

Morgan was livid. The combined task force agencies had been nothing but professional in handling every aspect of the original part of the case. How could they have fouled things up when the victim belonged to one of their own?

"Don't tell me you moved the body! Do they spell 'stupid' with a capital 'S' around here?!"

Rossi turned to Reid and found the young man standing, mouth agape, looking at the spot where his father should have been. He was relieved to see that JJ and Prentiss had moved in to flank the young genius. He would need all the support they could give him.

Before any more angry words could be exchanged, Trooper Bell threaded through the crowd to reach the BAU team. Morgan recognized him from the earlier crime scenes, and hoped he could make some sense of this nonsensical tableau.

"What gives?"

Bell waved his arms, palms down, in a calming motion. "Relax. No one but the coroner's team has been into the actual scene. I've got it marked off, see?"

He pointed toward the ground, where an ellipse of brightly colored string could be seen lying on the sand.

"The ME was tied up all the way out past the east side of town, and wouldn't have been able to get here for a few hours. He sent his team ahead to start working the scene…..and one of them found a pulse. The vic was still alive. He's on his way to UMC now."

The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines 'paralysis' as 'a state of being unable to function, act or move'. For one very long moment, each member of the BAU team experienced a state of paralysis. It was as though they were at the zero point of a pendulum swing. They'd arrived prepared to help Reid through the ordeal of identifying his father as the victim of a sadistic killer. To be told that William was still alive…..if it was, indeed, William…..would have brought comfort to most people. The kind of people who didn't know better. But the BAU had found victims near death before, and nearly all of them had succumbed. Collectively, the team felt that they dare not let the pendulum swing back into the realm of hope. They could only stand still.

Hotch recovered first. Making a rapid mental assessment of the situation, he began issuing orders.

"Morgan, Dave, you'll stay here and get what you can from the scene. We'll need to know if he's left any part of the signature. I don't have to tell you that we need to be very sure this time."

The two men nodded their acceptance of the task as Hotch continued speaking.

"The rest of us will go to the hospital. Prentiss, call ahead and make sure they're expecting us. Tell them there's to be no information released. I don't want the unsub knowing he left a victim alive."

He didn't have to say that JJ's assignment would be to hold her husband together. And Reid's would be to play the role of the worried son.

The foursome moved rapidly over the rough terrain as they headed back toward their SUV. Their silence was broken when Emily uttered a frustrated curse.

"Damn it! No service!"

They'd all forgotten. But Reid remembered something from his previous trips.

"We'll be in range 13.2 miles up the highway. If Hotch drives at 78 miles per hour, we can make the call in ten minutes."

Even considering how long they'd known him, the others were surprised at this rather dispassionate contribution from Reid. But JJ understood. It was a coping mechanism for her husband, this reverting to the known. Keeping his mind engaged in something else, so it wouldn't linger on what frightened him.

Hotch wasn't a senior profiler by accident. He read the situation and decided to play along.

"How fast do I have to go to make it in eight minutes?" he asked, as he climbed into the driver's seat.

"Ninety-nine. But you'd have to add time for acceleration." Reid tightened his seat restraint, and then made sure JJ did the same.

"All right, then," said Hotch, as he completed the three point turn around and the wheels of the SUV found pavement. "Everybody hold on!"

* * *

Acceleration ate up nearly a minute, so it was, according to Reid, eight minutes and fifty two seconds before they regained cell service. And another six seconds before Emily had the hospital on the line.

"There's to be no information given out, to anyone. Not a co-worker, not a family member, all right? We have the only identified family member with us, anyone else claiming it might be the person who did this to him. Do you understand?.... All right. We should be there in about…." She turned to look at Reid.

"Thirty seven minutes….assuming there's no traffic."

Emily passed the word along, and then they heard her ask about William's condition.

"I see. Oh. All right. Yes. Thank you." She ended the call, and turned to Reid again.

"All she knew was that they had him in the ED, in the trauma bay. As far as she knows, they're still working on him."

JJ felt Reid's hand compress her own, and looked over to smile her relief. For however long the respite lasted, they could hold on to hope. But 'hope' wasn't what she saw on her husband's face. If anything, it looked like Emily's news had triggered an escalation of his tension. His lips were taut, his eyes in deep shadow. She didn't understand this paradoxical reaction. _Didn't we just learn that William is still alive?_ She reached her other hand over to tug on his arm and gain his attention.

_What?_ She looked at him, not quite able to read him as she usually could.

He was glad for that. There was a war waging inside Spencer Reid. His thoughts and emotions were in a heated battle, leaving him in a state of chaos. Whenever any clarity emerged, he almost immediately rejected it, because he was ashamed of what it meant. Even if he could have answered JJ, he wouldn't have.

As they'd traveled out to the desert, Reid had tried to prepare himself. For almost a week, he'd known it was possible his father was gone, dead at the hands of a serial killer. But it had only been a possibility. The certainty of it, now displaced by renewed uncertainty, had brought him past the crisis point. It was, he'd thought, no longer possible to reconcile with the man he'd only recently managed to forgive. It was, he'd thought, no longer possible to introduce the man to his grandchildren. It was, he'd thought, no longer possible to find a way to move forward together.

There had been freedom in that. The nearly constant dilemma of knowing William was out there, somewhere, wanting admission to his son's life, had disappeared. The pressure of needing to make a decision, to respond or not respond, had been there every day, even when they hadn't heard from William in months. Just knowing his father wanted entrance to their lives, but needed his son's permission, had been enough to create tension in Reid.

The news of his father's death had released that tension. Even as they'd driven to the scene of the supposed murder, the young profiler had felt the transition from the process of indecision to the process of closure. But now, with the news of William's survival, all of it came crushing back.

_What does that say about me? I was sorry for his fate, and sorry for any suffering he'd met along the way. But I also felt a weight falling from my shoulders. Maybe, one day, I would have come to regret not letting him back into my life. But all I felt in that moment was the relief of not having to make the decision any more. I've had plenty of regrets in my life, I know how to deal with them. I could add the missed opportunity to the list, and deal with it as well. But to make a decision, every day, to exclude my father from it…..that took more out of me than I've been willing to admit. Certainly to JJ, and even to myself._

_But now…he's alive! Who knows for how long, but…I should be glad, and yet, all I can think about is that now I have to decide all over again, every day. I don't know that I have it in me. But I don't want him to die, do I? God, it can't have come to that, can it? Who am I?_

JJ was becoming increasingly concerned. Not that the circumstance alone wouldn't have accomplished that. But she couldn't get her husband's attention, and had the sense he was purposely withholding it from her. Reid's going deep inside was familiar. His getting lost there was not. All she could do was to hold on to him tightly, so he would have a means to find his way out.

* * *

In a little over thirty seven minutes, having encountered minimal traffic, the SUV screeched to a halt in the parking lot of the University Medical Center, and the four profilers hurried into the hospital.

Hotch flashed his badge at the triage nurse, who was obviously expecting them. She called back through the intercom, and a male nurse came out to speak with them.

"We've just sent him upstairs to ICU. He's admitted as 'James Doe'. " Seeing the puzzlement on their faces, he added, "We already had a 'John'. Been a busy couple of days."

As the nurse started back into the body of the ED, JJ called after him. "Was he conscious? Will we be able to speak to him?"

The nurse heard something in her voice, something that went beyond professional concern. He'd been in his line of work for a long time, and dealt with many the anxious family member and friend. Now he turned and walked closer again.

"Is there something we don't know about this patient?"

Reid had been silent up to now. "He's….he may be…..my father."

Now the nurse was confused. "I thought…you're not all FBI?"

Emily answered. "We are. Even FBI have parents." _We weren't all hatched._

"Of course. Sorry. I just didn't understand. Well, Agent….." he looked for Reid's ID badge and found it clipped to his belt…."Agent Reid...I'm sorry to say that your father…or, the patient…..isn't conscious. He's very critical, you should understand that. I'm sorry."

He didn't have to say it aloud for the rest to hear it. 

_For your sake, I hope he's not your father. Because he's probably already lost._

* * *

The UMC was so massive that Emily was wishing for a GPS before they finally found the ICU. Hotch tried badging his way in again, only to be stopped by a very underwhelmed charge nurse.

"Put it away, Agent. It doesn't do any good here. This is the largest ICU in Las Vegas. We catch all the major traumas, accidental and non. I see at least thirty badges a week."

"But…" Emily stopped when the nurse raised her hand.

"Relax. I'll let you in, but you'll have to wait. He literally arrived ten minutes ago, and we're still getting him settled. But…."

"We know," responded a conciliatory Emily, "he's unconscious. But we still need to see him. We may be able…." She threw a glance in Reid's direction, and received a nod in return. "….we may be able to identify him."

The nurse followed Emily's eyes, and directed her question to Reid. "Do you know him?"

"He may be my father."

At that, the nurse's demeanor changed. She was now in full caretaker mode. Placing a reassuring hand on Reid's arm, she said, "Don't you worry, honey. We're the best in the business. I'll go in and help them get him sorted, and then I'll come out and get you."

As she hurried off, Hotch turned to his youngest and took stock of the young man. Somehow, he managed to look steely and vulnerable at the same time. Hotch chose to reinforce the steel. Among them, Reid was the only one who had ever seen William in the flesh.

"We'll need a solid identification before we can move ahead with anything else. That's all you really need to accomplish right now. If he regains consciousness, Prentiss or I can interview him."

Reid nodded. "Understood."

Still studying his young genius, Hotch probed.

"Are you up to this? Morgan and Rossi have met him before. They'll be done at the scene by now, and are probably on their way. We can wait for them if we need to."

But even a rattled Reid knew time was of the essence. If they had an unsub on the loose, every minute would count.

"I'm okay. Thanks, but I'm okay."

Apart from them, JJ huddled with Emily.

"How do you think he's holding up?" asked the dark-haired profiler.

JJ didn't take her eyes off her husband. "He seems... okay…..but I know he's not. I can tell there's something wrong...I know, it sounds crazy, of course there's something wrong. But there's something else…I just can't tell.."

She was interrupted by the 'whish' of the ICU door opening. The charge nurse went straight for Reid this time.

"If you're ready, I'll bring you in."

_Ready? Never._ "Okay."

JJ tried to catch the nurse's eye. "Can I…."

The nurse nodded. "Two at a time. It's up to you which two."

Hotch nodded tacit approval to JJ's silent request, and she stepped forward to accompany her husband. She didn't have to touch him to know that he was trembling.

They followed the nurse into a space that tried to exude a sense of quiet, and calm. The lights were dimmed, and most of the voices were hushed. Still, there was a palpable sense of urgency in the pace of movement, the tone of the whispered exchanges. And a sense of grief exuding from those who sat at the sides of the their loved ones. Reid couldn't help but envy them. 

_At least they know how they feel about the person in the bed._

They traversed the unit, toward a bay in the far corner, still within easy sight line of the nurses' station. A single nurse could be seen checking the patient's monitor, adjusting his IV, and checking for urine output. She turned and smiled as she saw the trio approaching.

"You must be the son. I'm Carla. I'm your father's nurse."

The charge nurse issued a note of caution. "Actually, Agent Reid hasn't identified the patient yet. That's why he's here."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I guess I didn't understand. All right, let me get some of this out of the way." She moved several tubes and wires away from the patient's upper body and, for a few seconds, removed the oxygen cannulae from his nose.

JJ had only seen William in pictures. And she knew, from sad experience, the difficulty of recognizing someone in an ICU bed, She'd barely known Reid when she'd first laid her eyes on him after he'd been shot. Now, all she could do was to pray that he would know…or not know…..the man in the bed.

Reid stood and studied the patient for a long time. So long that Carla felt a need to reinsert the oxygen. The man's skin was tented, his eyes sunken. They'd been told in the ED that the patient had been put into a medically –induced coma, to restrict his metabolic demands. That explained the slackness of his features, the complete disconnection with the world surrounding him.

It should have been impossible to know, given the circumstances. But Reid did. He knew.

"That's my father."


	20. Chapter 20

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 20**

Hotch accompanied Reid for his second hourly five minutes with William. The unit chief wanted to bring a relatively dispassionate eye to the examination of their latest victim. It wasn't lost on him that Reid kept his distance from his father, making no attempt to so much as touch his hand, or pat his arm. The context might have led someone to think Reid was simply respecting the various tubes and wires protruding from William. But Hotch recognized it as evidence of the remaining chasm between father and son.

When he saw the two men at the bedside, one of the attending physicians made his way over to the bay.

"Is one of you the son?"

"I am." Reid introduced himself as he shook the doctor's extended hand, and Hotch did the same.

"I'm Dr. Casagrande, one of the intensivists. I'm so sorry about your father, Doctor…..wait, I thought they said you were an FBI agent?"

Reid explained, in minimal terms, about the PhDs.

"Wow. My parents were thrilled when I got my MD. I can only imagine how yours felt about your getting three doctorates!"

_No, you really can't._ Aloud, Reid said, "Can you tell me anything about his condition?"

The physician's face sobered immediately. "He was in bad shape when he came in. They gave him a couple of liters of fluid in the ED, just to give his heart something to pump. But now we need to be more careful. It looks like he had an extended period of dehydration, which damaged his kidneys. Until or unless we get them working again, we have to be careful not to fluid-overload him. It's a delicate balance, and one we have to monitor constantly."

Reid nodded. He had no degrees in the biological sciences, but he'd read extensively. Of course.

Satisfied that his audience had absorbed the first piece of information, Casagrande continued.

"His heart actually seems pretty good, and his lungs are working pretty well. We think we'll be able to get rid of the oxygen by morning. His liver….we'll have to watch that as well. It has to process some of the byproducts of his muscle breakdown….that's one of the effects of the dehydration….so it's working overtime right now. His vitals are stable, but we'll be watching his blood pressure, given the problem with his kidneys, which help control it. And his head injury wasn't too bad. Probably a concussion, and a hairline fracture of his skull, but no bleeding in the brain."

The two BAU agents exchanged a startled look at the last piece of information. Hotch spoke for both of them.

"Head injury? We weren't aware he'd been injured." None of the other victims had shown any sign of trauma. Toxicology studies were still out on them, but it had been presumed they'd been drugged.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you knew. Yes, he had an open wound on his occiput….that's the rear part of the skull." The doctor demonstrated by touching that part of his own head. "It was a pretty deep laceration, and it looked as though it had rounded edges to it. Like he was knocked out with something."

"Something like a rock?" Reid wondered if William had been rendered unconscious via the same unknown mechanism as the other victims, and perhaps fallen to the desert floor. But Casagrande's information didn't sync with that.

"No, it was too well rounded. I put myself through medical school working as an EMT. Back then, I used to see your dad's kind of injury all the time. Only then, it was usually somebody being bashed in a bar fight, with a pool cue or the bottom part of a stool or something. Round like that."

If the unsub had an accomplice or fan, that person was straying from the script. Or maybe William's attempted murder had been at the hands of someone entirely different. Hotch needed to assemble his team. They needed to re-work the profile. Or come up with an entirely new one.

"Doctor, the rest of my team is on their way here. Is there some space we can use…..private space?"

* * *

They'd been granted use of a small conference room, but been told they'd have to vacate from time to time, to accommodate teaching rounds. The four already at the hospital were just settling in when Morgan and Rossi joined them.

Morgan pulled Reid into a one-armed hug. "I'm sorry, man. But I'm glad he's still alive. At least he has a chance."

Rossi added his own condolences and then filled the others in on what they'd learned at the scene.

"We profiled that the unsub was staying with the victims, watching them die. We'd even figured out how he provided shade and hydration for himself. But there was none of that here. The area was too open, too flat. There were no boulders or ledges that might provide shade."

"And nothing in the ground that indicated a tent or even a lean-to," added Morgan. "The other locations were out into the desert more, they gave the unsub privacy, the abiity to hide himself. This one was too near the visitor's center. Granted, there's not much traffic in general, but that area has a lot more hikers passing through than the others. There was no way the unsub could be sure he wouldn't be seen while he was watching his victim." _Watching him shrivel to death._ He wouldn't say those words aloud. Wouldn't plant that image in Reid's head.

"But couldn't that be why William survived?" posited Emily. "That the unsub chose a spot too close to civilization, and he had to flee before he was discovered?"

Hotch had decided to wait for the others to arrive before filling all of them in on what they'd learned from Dr. Casagrande.

"The location wasn't the only deviation from the pattern. William suffered a head injury."

Reid's voice entered the conversation. "It was inflicted, likely from a long object with rounded edges."

"Like a baseball bat?" asked Morgan.

Reid nodded. "Maybe. Or, according to the doctor, like a pool cue, or the leg of a chair….I guess it could even have been a golf club."

JJ saw the subtle wince with each of the projected possibilities, as though each one created a visual image inside Reid's head. She needed to move his mind away from it.

"So, what are we thinking? That we've got an unsub who revised the scenario? Or that we've got a completely different case?" She was pretty sure she knew what her husband was thinking.

Rossi was quick to voice his opinion. "We profiled this as a single unsub. Given the possibility of an accomplice, we profiled him as a submissive, a 'fan' of the dominant. There's no way a submissive would take it on himself to change the script."

"Unless he's just incompetent," mused Emily. "Maybe he just didn't get it right." _Maybe he failed 'Serial Killer 101'._

Hotch had an opinion as well. "I think Rossi's right. I think we've got a completely different case here. Reid, do you agree?"

It was vitally important to have their young genius on board with the theory, for a host of reasons.

"Before my dad was found in the desert, I was leaning toward his disappearance having something to do with my uncle, and with the university. Given what we know about the location where he was found, and his injuries, I have to go back to that. I think my dad may have confronted someone about something, and paid a price for it." Hoping it wasn't the ultimate price.

"All right." Having reached a decision about which direction to take the case, Hotch was ready to make assignments. But first he wanted to make sure they were all starting from the same point. "We have some indication that William may have been upset with Claus Albrecht, and gone to confront him. If Reid is right, the argument may have been over William's suspicion that Albrecht claimed a discovery made by Daniel. But we don't have whatever evidence William may have seen that convinced him of the stolen property."

Morgan chimed in. "And we do know that Claus Albrecht is ninety-five years old. Unless he's spent his free time as a body builder, I doubt he could have lifted anything high enough to hit William in the back of the head."

"Which means," contributed Emily, "that he had to have an accomplice. Logic would point us at either the grandson or the great-grandson."

JJ was nodding. "They'd have the most to lose, if the 'family money' came from the stolen discovery."

"But why," wondered Emily, "would it have taken your father all this time to decide to go after them, Reid?"

He could only shake his head. "I don't know. My guess would be that he either didn't know how to reach them….or maybe he just recently figured it out."

Rossi found that intriguing. "If this was new information to your dad, it's probably around somewhere, isn't it?"

JJ fielded the question. "But we've looked everywhere. My new friend Officer Guidry and I even pulled every book out of William's bookshelves."

Her husband's eyes lit up. "But you only looked _between_ the books. You didn't actually go _through_ them, right? We were talking about how time consuming that would be. You didn't look _inside_ the books."

And she didn't really want to now, either. "Spence…that could eat up a week, easily. You saw how many books he owns. We don't have that kind of time. The Albrechts could be long gone before we find anything."

Knowing they couldn't hold the men without evidence, nor even put them under surveillance. And, whether ill-gotten or not, the Albrechts had money. That made it even easier to disappear.

Morgan had a thought. "Didn't you say you found those two threatening notes tucked into your father's case files from the last six months? Maybe we only have to look at books he's acquired since then. I can get Baby Girl…."

Reid interrupted him. "Never mind. I know. I know _exactly_ where to look. I know _exactly_ where he would have put it."


	21. Chapter 21

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 21**

Reid was reluctant to leave the hospital. Even knowing that the medical staff had no plans to lighten William's medically-induced coma, even knowing that there was no chance he would be able to speak with his father, he couldn't bring himself to go. To his own great surprise, there was something deep inside that stayed him.

_Maybe they won't let him wake up. Maybe he can't talk to you. But that doesn't mean he can't die. Do you really want to remember that you walked out on the last moments you could possibly have had together?_

Reid tried to shake the thoughts out of his head. Just about a week ago, he'd been content to live a life without any trace of William Reid in it. Now, faced with just that, he couldn't bring himself to let go. He was surprised at his mind's use of those very words.

' _Let go'. As if I've been holding on to him all this time. As if there was something….or someone…..to hold on to. It's ridiculous. I left him in my past, just like he left me. I haven't been holding on, have I?_

Knowing, on some level, that even anger and resentment were ways of not letting the past go. But then he had another insight.

_Maybe it's not_ me _who's been holding on. He's been sending us flowers and cards for a couple of years now. Maybe_ he's _holding on. Maybe that's why I'm having so much trouble letting go. Because_ he _won't._

The thought precipitated an intricate examination of the last decade and a half of his life, as Reid tried to identify exactly when the point of reconnection might have been. The point at which his father had decided he wanted to reattach himself to his son.

_Was it when we investigated Riley? But he didn't even_ try _to reach out to me after that._

Ever since that awful conversation in the police lounge, Reid had tried to drive any trace of it from his mind. It was the only time in memory when his mother and father had come to him as a unified front, and then only to tell him that he'd falsely accused his father of murder, that the man he reviled had only been trying to protect Diana. But that wasn't what made the memory so difficult for him. What repulsed Reid, ever after, was how he'd responded to William's use of the situation to explain his abandonment of them. How, so many years later, the son had still so plaintively spoken to the father. _'But you could have come back. We could have started over.'_ As though the adult Spencer was still begging, still beseeching on the part of his younger self.

_I fell right back into the child role, with both of my parents sitting beside me. Lapping it up, like some stupid abused puppy that keeps going back for more. How pathetic!_

He'd been disgusted with himself, both for making the false accusation and for how he'd reacted to it. His father hadn't exactly jumped at the chance for reunification, had he? He'd simply responded with another excuse as to how his sick wife and genius son were all too much for him.

Afterwards, the long ride home on the commercial jet had given Reid plenty of time to sulk. From his seat across the aisle, David Rossi had read Reid's expression and known the young man was berating himself. At one point, when Reid had gotten up to stretch his legs, Rossi had followed him to the back of the cabin.

"Makes you appreciate the BAU jet, doesn't it?" Opening with small talk.

"Yeah."

"You going to the hospital when we land?"

For a moment, Reid had been confused. _Hospital? Mental hospital?_ It was all that had been on his mind.

"To see the new little Jareau…..or LaMontagne, or whatever they're calling him."

Reid refrained from openly face-palming. _JJ! Nice going, Reid. Your best friend has a baby and you forget all about it._ Another fault to add to his list.

"Oh, yeah. I'll stop by on my way home."

"You give her my love, all right? I've got another obligation tonight."

When Reid didn't respond, Rossi realized the younger man had already disappeared back into his dark thoughts. _Time to pull you out, my friend._

"You know, you look an awful lot like your mom. She must have been quite beautiful when she was young."

Reid just squinted at him. Those days, Diana's face had almost always worn a slight sneer, a gift of her illness.

"She was. At least, I thought so. But not many people can see that. Not anymore."

"All it takes is the right set of eyes, Spencer. Some of us have them, and some of us don't."

It came over him quickly, the realization that they were in a significant conversation. Something like a father-and–son talk. The kind he'd never had with William, and the kind that had been so stilted when he'd had them with Gideon.

"You're talking about my dad."

Rossi shrugged his nonchalance, knowing instinctively to keep the conversation casual.

"Him. Others. He may not have been able to see it, Spencer…..the gift that was his wife and son. But it doesn't mean the gift didn't exist. It doesn't say anything about you. Nor your mom. You understand?"

He waited until he saw his young colleague nod, ever so slightly. "He may never be able to see it. And that will be his loss. Or, maybe one day, he'll see it exactly, and know what he walked away from. And that may be his undoing."

Reid heard the low chord of sympathy in Rossi's voice. The sound of sorrow shared. And he wondered, for the first time…but not the last….if there wasn't a lot more to know about David Rossi than could be learned from his books.

Now, sitting in the hospital conference room, revisiting that prior time in his life yet again, Reid couldn't help but wonder if there was something of that yearning child left in him. Something that might always be there wondering, waiting, wishing…..but, for what?

_It's not like he can make it up to me, can he? It's not like I'll ever go to him for parenting advice. I can't imagine we have anything in common_.

But that thought gave him pause. His visit to his father's home, the bookshelves that he'd sent his colleagues to scour again….the books, the authors _._

_Maybe there_ is _a connection. Maybe that's why. Maybe I'm just trying to really know where I come from. What goes into making me 'me'._

His reverie was interrupted when his wife returned to the room.

"The nurses aren't too fond of the cafeteria food. They sent me down the block. Hope you're hungry. I got us the five-dollar-foot-long, but I've only got about three inches in me."

He gave her a weak half-smile. "Thanks. But I don't think…"

"Spence, you have to eat. You haven't had a thing since breakfast, have you?"

"I'm just not that hungry, JJ. You go ahead, I'm fine."

She knew how to get him. "Then I'm fine too."

"But….oh, all right. Give me half."

Smiling, she did as he asked. As they started in on their sandwiches, JJ launched a conversation about the kids, bringing up funny stories, wondering when they should move Rosie out of her crib, whether Henry would play baseball again in the spring…..anything to keep her husband's mind occupied. When she was satisfied with what he'd eaten, she sat back and sighed.

"That was good. I was hungrier than I thought."

He looked down at his empty plate. "Guess I was, too."

"And now, we have our 'after-dinner entertainment'."

To his quizzical look, she responded, "I asked the nurses if we could use the computer in here. It's almost nine back home."

Immediately, Reid's lips curved upward as he followed his wife over to the monitor. "For once, I hope they didn't go to bed on time."

JJ laughed. "When have they ever gone to bed on time?"

Henry was particularly talented at prolonging the process, and Rosie was already beginning to look like his protégé in that regard.

A couple of short beeps later, the webcam in DC picked up a blonde head, and as the pixels resolved, they could see Sandy in front of the camera.

"Hello?"

"Mom! You figured out how to work it!"

Sandy smiled. "I had Henry give me lessons. In addition to this, I am now also a master at mine-something-or-other, and web-something or other. And Miss Rosie and I can whip up a mean cupcake on our computer screen."

JJ was shocked. "Mom...they've got you playing computer games? How?" Knowing her mother was a major proponent of kids using their imagination.

"Honey, it's been snowing here for the past 36 hours. We're up to about fifteen inches. I couldn't get them out of the house, and I was desperate."

The pair in Nevada shared a look. They'd been so distracted that they hadn't even paid attention to the weather back home.

"Are you guys all right? Do you have enough food?"

"We're fine. The snow's let up now, and the plows are starting to come through. We should be able to get out by tomorrow morning."

"Mom, don't let Dad shovel, okay? It's not good for his heart." Remembering that Charles had suffered an arrhythmia a few years before.

"Not to worry. We've already been approached by a couple of enterprising kids from down the street. They'll have us cleaned up in an hour or two."

Reid cleared his throat. "Mom…." Stopping at the word. It had taken him a while to get used to calling Sandy 'Mom', but he'd done it. Still, recent events had brought his mother to the forefront of his mind, and now it seemed strange to use the name for someone other than Diana. But he didn't want to hurt Sandy's feelings. "….. are the kids still up?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Spencer. They went down about an hour ago. I think they were just so bored, they went to bed early. But, if you want, I can get them up for you."

"Oh, no, don't do that. Let them sleep. It's just…."

Sandy smiled back at him. "It's just that you miss them like crazy, don't you?" One of the things she loved about her son-in-law was his love for her grandchildren.

"Well….yeah."

JJ broke in. "Spence is right, Mom. Let them sleep. You and Dad could probably use the break. Is he there, by the way?"

"He's pretending to read the paper, but I know his eyes are closed behind it."

JJ smiled again. "Let the big kid sleep too, then. If he wakes up, maybe he can give me a call."

"Okay, Sweetheart. So, is there any news?"

They filled Sandy in on the finding of William, and his condition.

"Oh, Spencer, I'm so sorry! Happy that you found him, of course, but….oh, Honey, I'm so sorry. Is there anything we can do?" Wishing Henry could teach her how to hug through the computer.

"Thanks, but we're okay here. The doctors are 'cautiously optimistic'. They think they'll have a better idea by some time tomorrow."

"Then I'll start praying right now. You two, please try to get some rest. I know it's hard, but…you know.."

JJ blew a kiss at her mother. "We know. And we will. Good night, Mom. Love you."

"I love you too, Sweetheart. And you too, Spencer."

He smiled back. "Me too."

* * *

Two hours later, Reid shuffled back from his latest five minute bedside vigil and found JJ on the phone with Morgan. She waved Reid over as she put the call on speaker.

"Nowhere?"

"We looked in every one of the Asimov books, like Reid said. Nothing."

Reid's brow furrowed. He'd been certain, absolutely positive, that his father would have hidden away evidence of Daniel's discovery inside one of the books of his favorite science fiction author.

"All of them, Morgan? You went through every Asimov book?"

"Kid, we went through every book in his 'science section', Asimov or not. By the way….who organizes their own library by subject matter?"

It was so second nature to Reid that he hadn't even noticed it. But it was true. William's books had been shelved alphabetically by the author's last name, but only within topic areas. His fiction separated from non-fiction, mystery separated from science fiction, and so on. Briefly, Reid flashed on yet another similarity between father and son, and wondered what else was so ingrained in him that he hadn't been able to see it.

A flash of insight interrupted the thought. "Wait, that might be it! Morgan, is there a poetry section?"

"Poetry? Hey, Princess….is there a poetry section?"

As incongruous as it was with the situation, Reid and JJ shared a smile at hearing that. They knew Morgan was hoping Emily would recognize a book of poetry, certain he wouldn't be able to do it himself.

Then they heard, "She says there is."

"Okay. Look for Milton. Is there a copy of 'Paradise Lost'?"

"Prentiss says there are two copies."

"Is one of them 'Asimov's Guide to Paradise Lost'?"

They heard Emily's hushed, "My God!" in the background, and then Morgan's voice again.

"Kid, you're a genius! Oh, that's right…..you _are_ a genius! It's there….looks like some drawings…diagrams, really….and about twenty or so typed pages. It's got your uncle's name on the top….and his signature at the end. I think this is what you're looking for, Kid."

Reid's heart pounded in excitement. "I know it's late, but….can you bring it here? Can I see it?"

"We'll be there in about forty minutes. Good thinking, Reid."

"Thanks."

As she closed the call, JJ caught her husband's eyes. There was a glint in them that she hadn't seen in a long while.

"One step closer, right?" She moved in and wrapped her arms around him, feeling the nod of his head against hers.

"One step closer." He pulled her in, leaning his chin atop her head. It was the position that always made him feel like he'd gained a second spine, and a second heart. That they should belong to the strongest, most determined woman he knew was something that always brought him renewed strength of spirit…..something he sorely needed this night.

After a long embrace, JJ pulled him over to the window. Its deep sill offered the only long surface in the room, save the table or the floor. She perched on one end and patted the space beside her.

"Come and lie down for a little bit. It's been a long day, and it will probably be a long night. C'mon, Spence. Here, you can lay your head in my lap."

He started to protest, pointing out that she'd been up just as long as he had, that she'd already told him she wasn't leaving the hospital without him, that Morgan and Emily would be arriving soon.

"Just for a few minutes, Spence. Come on. You don't even have to close your eyes. Just let your body rest."

The same determination that so often brought him strength was also sometimes his undoing. From long experience, Reid knew when to concede the fight. He sat a little apart from her, and laid his long frame out on the window sill, his head pillowed in her lap. When she started playing with his hair, his eyes closed and he felt himself starting to drift. It seemed only seconds later when a voice intruded on his dreamless state.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, nice set up you've got going here."

Forgetting where he was, Reid started to roll, and had to catch himself before he fell from the window sill. Despite the situation, Emily couldn't restrain a snort. Reid's long legs, and his awkward predicament, made him look like a newborn foal trying to get his feet under him.

"You all right there, Reid?"

"Fine," he insisted, once he'd gotten himself upright. From the corner of his eye, he noticed his wife suppressing a grin. "Told you," he whispered.

Morgan crossed the room and placed a book into Reid's hands. "This is what we found. We brought the whole thing, in case there was something important about exactly where he put it."

Taking the volume from his friend, Reid ran his hands over the cover, and then over the spine, as though caressing it. Seemingly always attuned to his subtleties, Emily asked, "Does the book mean something to you? Is it special?"

He looked lost in memory, but Reid answered her. "It was their 'together' book. It was the one they both loved. Mom, because it was Milton. And Dad, because it was Asimov. It's the only thing I can remember both of them reading to me."

JJ bit her lips to withhold what she wanted to say, but dare not. And then she almost kissed Emily when she heard the words from her friend's mouth.

"Do you think he put it there because he knew you would remember that? That he knew the book was important to all three of you?"

Morgan built on that. "It's got to mean something that your dad kept it, right?"

JJ saw the turmoil returning to her husband's face, and understood it exactly. He'd been so deeply hurt by his father's abandonment of them, and so righteous in his anger. Now, each indication that William might still have had feelings for Diana...the flowers, the book...was, effectively, a challenge to that anger.

Last year, he'd broken down. He'd battled mightily with his feelings about William, and his reflex rejection of his father's meager attempts to reach out. Reid's own experience as a father had taught him how precarious the role could be, and he hadn't been able to ignore the fact that William had felt that uncertainty as well. Acknowledging the human frailty of his father, Reid had forgiven him…..in his heart, where the forgiveness could lead to his own healing. But he'd not forgotten, nor had he told William, let alone reconciled with the man.

Now, these small revelations of William's continued caring about Diana kept coming at him as pieces of shrapnel piercing what he'd thought was well-proven body armor. He didn't know what to do with it, and he didn't know how to stop the attack.

JJ laid a supportive arm across her husband's back as she leaned in to look at what he held in his hands.

"Let's see the file," partly curious, partly wanting to change the subject.

Reid slowly flipped the pages of the book until the file showed itself. He handled the papers gently as he put the book aside. The rest watched as he read rapidly through the text, pausing occasionally to look at a series of diagrams drawn on several separate pages. When he was done, he looked up to see three pairs of eyes staring anxiously at him.

"Well?" Emily didn't have the patience to wait him out.

"It's my Uncle Daniel's thesis….basically, it's a design plan for a way to concentrate sound waves. I'd have to do a little reading to be sure, but it definitely sounds like it could be the basis for the technique for lithotripsy."

"So, you think Albrecht might have stolen the paper from your uncle?"

Reid shook his head. "This is an original. It was done on a typewriter. Albrecht might have had a copy, I guess. They've been around long enough."

Then JJ noticed something. "Spence, look! On the cover page. Look who he was submitting it to!"

He'd gone right past it, wanting to get into the body of the paper. Now he noticed what had caught JJ's attention. The title page read: "A Method of Sound Wave Concentration: Harnessing the Energy of Sound", by Daniel Reid, submitted on July 9, 1985 to Professor Claus Albrecht, Departments of Physics and Astronomy, University of Nevada at Las Vegas".

"July 9?" echoed Emily. "What was the date of your uncle's death?"

"He was found on July 11, but they estimated he'd been dead a few days." Reid knew precisely where she was going, because he'd already gotten there. "Albrecht didn't need the paper. Uncle Daniel had been working in his lab, of course Albrecht knew what my uncle was doing. He'd probably been consulting with him all along."

"Whoa, Pretty Boy. If your uncle was working under Albrecht, doesn't the work product kind of belong to the professor? Maybe we're barking up the wrong tree here."

Reid was adamant. He'd had too much personal experience in the matter. "That's not how it works. Most of the labs are staffed by graduate assistants. The full professors are barely there-and especially if they're only days away from retirement, like Albrecht. No, it's far more likely that Albrecht had heard what was going on in the lab, and saw the potential in it."

"So you think he killed your uncle before the paper could be submitted….and then wrote it up himself, as his own discovery?" Doubt was evident in Emily's tone.

"That's exactly what I'm thinking."

The others may not have been on board with Reid, but JJ was. "Spence, how do you think your father found it?"

Morgan was willing to play along. "More to the point, _when_ do you think your father found it? Do you think he was holding onto it all these years?"

The son could only shake his head and shrug his shoulders. "I haven't a clue. I can only hope he'll be able to wake up and tell me."

* * *

With so many questions still in play about the significance of Daniel Reid's paper, they couldn't be sure there was any connection at all with their case. Until William was able to speak, that part of the investigation would have to be placed on hold.

Promising 'good thoughts and prayers' for his father, the two older profilers bid Reid and JJ good night and headed back to the hotel. The younger pair spent a restless seven hours alternating positions on the conference room window sill, neither getting more than a few catnaps' worth of rest. By six the following morning, they gave up on sleep altogether and noticed a renewed bustling in the hallway outside.

Reid was about to go in search of coffee when there was a perfunctory knock, and the door opened to reveal a nurse.

"Dr. Reid? Dr. Casagrande asked me to get you. Your father was so stable overnight that Dr. Casagrande thought he might lighten his meds this morning, before rounds."

"What does that mean?" interjected JJ.

"It means they're trying to wake him up," explained her husband.

"Not trying, Dr. Reid," corrected the nurse. "He's awake."


	22. Chapter 22

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 22**

He insisted she come with him. Reid hadn't been alone with his father in over twenty years…..not when William was conscious, anyway. He wasn't quite ready to break that pattern just yet.

For JJ, it was an experience bordering on the bizarre. She'd written to William several times, when Reid had been critically wounded, when their daughter had been born, an occasional holiday card. He'd responded, intermittently, with a gift of a plant or flowers, and a card vaguely addressing all of them. In some ways, she'd understood her husband's feeling of rejection from the elder Reid. She'd reached out, and he had, virtually, tossed something from a distance, rather than accepting her hand. And yet, he'd given her one of the most precious gifts of her life. Surely there had to be something worthy in him.

The couple approached the ICU hand-in-hand, and were met by Dr. Casagrande at the entrance to William's bay.

"We stopped the meds a few hours ago. He's reasonably alert, and he seems oriented. He doesn't remember being in the desert, which is probably a blessing. He may have some other memory gaps, but you'll probably have to help us determine that. His kidneys haven't quite bounced all the way back yet, but otherwise, he seems remarkably well for someone who's been through what he has."

"Thank you, Doctor. Will you be moving him from the ICU, then?"

Casagrande mistakenly assumed Reid wanted to be able to spend more time with his father.

"We'll move him to step-down in a couple of hours. He'll need the cardiac monitor until we trust his kidneys to keep his potassium in check. But I can relax the five minute rule for you."

A brief nod served as his farewell as the physician moved off to attend to another patient. That left the two profilers to take a deep breath, share a look of support, and enter into their encounter with William Reid.

The bed propped him at a 45 degree angle, and there were still plenty of wires and tubes to be seen. But his eyes were open, and his gaze sharp.

"Spencer! They told me my son was here, but I didn't…I didn't think...…Spencer."

Reid couldn't move his voice past the lump in his throat. Whether it was there from relief, or anxiety, or pity, or anger, he couldn't have said. He was only sure it wasn't love that was creating the obstacle.

William either didn't notice his son's lack of response, or he chose to ignore it. His next words were directed at the woman standing at his bedside. He looked from her face, to her hand clasped in his son's.

"You must be….." he stumbled, not able to retrieve her name. "I'm sorry. I guess my memory isn't very good at the moment."

"I'm Jennifer. But most people call me JJ. I'm.."

Voice freed, Reid spoke over her. "She's my wife."

"Ah, yes. Your wife. Congratulations. I'm sorry I didn't make it to the wedding. Or maybe I just don't remember it."

The couple's eyes met for a split second. There had been no chance William Reid would be invited to their wedding.

_Does he not remember that? What else has he forgotten?_

JJ stepped closer to the bed. "We're glad you're going to be okay, Mr. Reid."

William gave her a half smile that was so similar to her husband's that JJ's eyes widened.

"'Mr. Reid' sounds very formal for a father-in-law, doesn't it? Please, you can call me 'Dad'." Then, unable to translate the look that had come over her face, he added, "Or William."

Positioned between Reid and his father, JJ felt the tension arcing through her as she responded. "William, then."

A relationship that has been disrupted for over two decades doesn't much lend itself to small talk. Eventually the rift must be addressed, the wounds laid open, the pain acknowledged. He'd been able to avoid it when he'd kept his distance, but now, standing at William's bedside, Reid knew he wouldn't leave Las Vegas without entering into that rocky terrain. He would either leave reconciled, or permanently disconnected. But he also knew that he wasn't ready for it just yet...and neither was William. If they were to have a conversation, it would have to be about something else.

Reid, the son, still had his heart in his throat. So Reid, the profiler, took over.

"Dad, I have to ask you some questions about what happened. Do you think you can answer them for me?"

"I'll try. But apparently I was found in the desert, and I have no memory of being there."

"That's what Dr. Casagrande said. Maybe you can start with the last thing you _do_ remember."

"All right. I remember….." Then, distracted by another thought. "Wait, Spencer…..are you actually investigating this? Is the FBI involved?"

Reid explained that they'd been called to Las Vegas for another case, and the overlap in timing with William's disappearance. "So we're extending our time here a little, and looking into it. That's all."

Whether or not it made sense, it seemed to placate William. He resumed his original train of thought.

"Oh. All right. You asked about the last thing I can remember…..I'm not sure if it's the last thing, but I remember being at home. I remember going through some files…" He'd been looking into the distance, but now adjusted his gaze to look at his son. "I've been thinking it might be time to retire, and I wanted to sort through some things beforehand, so I was going through a lot of papers."

Reid's antennae were up at that, but William seemed to be struggling with the rest of his memory.

Seeing it, JJ made a suggestion. "Maybe I could try a cognitive interview with you."

"Cognitive interview?"

Reid explained. "We try to help your memory by reminding you of some of the non-related things about the day. Sometimes people can get a mental block about something, but going after it from a different angle helps."

William started to shrug, but the movement seemed to cause him pain. "I guess I have nothing to lose. Go ahead."

"Are you sure you're comfortable enough?"

"I'm fine, as long as I don't move too much."

The denial was so like one that Reid might have given her. _Another thing that's like father, like son._

"All right, let's start. You said you remember going through files. Do you remember what time of day it was? Did you go through them in the garage, or did you take the files inside?"

William looked at her sharply. "How do you know where I keep my files? Have you been to my home?"

Seeing that the interview was already off to a rough start, Reid broke in. "We've been looking into your disappearance, Dad. You were gone more than a week. We had to look for anything that might give us a clue."

William was starting to understand a bit better. "So you already know something, don't you? And you're trying to see if I remember it?"

"We have a theory, Dad. But we can't be sure until you can tell us whether we're on the right path."

"Well, what's your theory?"

JJ took the conversation back. "It's better if we help you to remember on your own, Mr. …William."

The lawyer in him understood. "Ah. Holds up better in court, right?"

She smiled. "Yes, that. And it gives us better confirmation if your memory brings you to the same place that our theory brought us."

William leaned back into his pillow and closed his eyes. "All right, then. We may as well give it a shot."

As JJ led him slowly through a memory of examining files and sorting papers, Reid watched, bemused. He'd never thought this day would come, when he would see his father and his wife together in the same room, let alone engaged in the same task.

"So, you went through your accounts, old tax returns….did you find anything …..else….in there? Anything unusual?"

"No, not that I can remember."

The couple exchanged looks of disappointment. This had seemed a promising avenue, but they were at a dead end.

"But….now that you mention it…..I did find something unusual. But it wasn't in the file cabinet." William seemed to become more animated with the memory. "I'm a little clumsy, you see…."

Having heard yet another similarity between father and son, JJ dared not look at her husband. His hands were the most coordinated part of him.

"…and I lost my balance, and sort of fell into the wall, which knocked a box off the top shelf. That's where it was. Danny….." His voice suddenly infused with sorrow.

"Uncle Daniel?" Reid realized, too late, that he'd broken into the cognitive interview.

William looked at his son. "You remember him? You remember Danny?"

Despite his feelings about his father, Reid hated to disappoint him in this. The man seemed so earnest.

"Not exactly. But I remember _about_ him." Not mentioning that the past few days had taught him far more about Daniel Reid than he'd ever known before.

"Oh. I thought, maybe…..but never mind. I was telling you that I knocked over a box, and everything inside it spilled all over the floor. Danny's baseball glove, his Eagle Scout badge….and a bunch of his papers."

Breaths held, JJ and Reid waited for it.

"He had a double major in college, did you know that? Physics and engineering. He was getting his Ph.D. in physics, and thinking about studying astrophysics. At nineteen! Imagine!"

JJ suppressed a smile. Yes, she could definitely imagine that.

"Most of the papers I found were from his college courses, but there was one that was still in one of those plastic folders, like he hadn't handed it in yet. And then I noticed the date, and I realized…."

"You realized he'd never had a chance to hand it in," his son provided for him.

JJ stepped back, releasing the interview to her husband. The cognitive method didn't seem to be needed at this point.

"Yes, exactly! The date on it was only a few days before Danny died…or before he was found, anyway." William's eyes dropped to the bed, and his volume fell, as though he was speaking only to himself. "In all these years, I've never understood that. Why he would put all that work into his degree, and then go out into the desert and take his own life."

Reid opened his mouth to speak, then looked uncertainly to JJ. A subtle shake of her head told him she thought it wasn't the right time.

Acknowledging William's sorrow, Reid went to his softest voice. "Dad, the paper…..Uncle Daniel's paper.."

It took him an extra beat, but William went back to his story. "The paper….it was about something Danny had been working on. Sound waves. He'd figured out how to concentrate their energy and convert it into an explosive force. I remember that he's gotten the idea from a part of the Manhattan Project. They'd harnessed explosive waves, and Danny figured out how to do the same thing with sound waves." Pride evident in his voice now.

"So there wouldn't be the need to use chemicals at all," Reid joined his father in appreciating the breakthrough his uncle had made.

"That's right. I remember asking Danny if it meant we could fight a war without ammunition. But he said it was only good for small things. At least, that's how it was then."

"Dad, do you remember what you did with Uncle Daniel's paper?"

"I put it back in the box. I left all of his things together."

That didn't jive with the recent finding, so JJ probed, "Did you ever go back and look at it again?"

William's brow furrowed in a visible effort to jog his memory. Reid and JJ began to fear they'd reached his point of amnesia. If so, they might never understand exactly what had happened. But then William began to speak again.

"I…...think…no….wait...yes. Yes! Oh, my God, I remember it! But I don't know how…"

"Dad?"

"Spencer, I remember. It was a few weeks after I'd been going through the files, and I saw an article in the newspaper. It was about Dr. Albrecht. I remembered him from when Danny worked in his lab. The article said he was being honored at the dedication of a lab his family was donating to the school. It gave a whole recap of his accomplishments. He was actually the one who discovered how to channel explosive waves for the atomic bomb, did you know that? They called it the 'Albrecht Lens', although it was only a lens in concept."

JJ made a mental note to have Garcia research the article as William continued, his voice taking on a noticeably darker tone now.

"And then the article went on to say that, while he'd achieved fame through the lens, his fortune had come from something else. He'd become wealthy from a patent on the process of using sound waves to create small explosions. It's used in surgery sometimes, like with gallstones. To me, it sounded a lot like what Danny's paper had been about."

"So, what did you do?" asked his son.

"I researched it. It took me a while, because the articles back then weren't on line. But I went to the University library and a wonderful young librarian helped me look into it. She found the article where Albrecht described the process, and it was almost exactly what Danny had described in his paper…..but it was published six months after Danny died."

JJ wanted to be clear. "Are you saying you think Albrecht stole the idea from your brother? Or do you think he built on your brother's work after Daniel's death?"

William's voice was full of conviction. "Everything in Albrecht's article was in Danny's paper already. It was all Danny's work. I just thought Albrecht took credit, when he should have acknowledged that Danny had figured it out. That's what I planned to tell him."

"Tell him….when?" asked JJ.

"I went to see him. It was the night before the lab was being dedicated, but there was supposed to be a small reception with the president of the University. I wanted him to acknowledge Danny's role. It was Danny's work that helped Albrecht donate the lab."

Reid's indecision resolved. It was time.

He cleared his throat. "Dad… we have reason to believe that Uncle Daniel didn't take his own life. We think he was killed. Murdered."

William looked like he was having trouble processing the words. Seeing his distress, JJ added, "We think he hadn't given up on his life, Mr….William. We think you were right to wonder why he would have put so much work into his thesis, and then committed suicide. We don't think he did that. We think his life was taken from him."

William just stared at this stranger who was also his daughter-in-law. "You think….. but….but, do you think…my God, do you think he was killed for what he discovered? Danny!"


	23. Chapter 23

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 23**

"How is he?" Aaron Hotchner was checking in on his two youngest agents and their lone, amnesiac, witness, as the others pursued information on the Albrecht clan.

"He's all right. Or, he seems to be. I think it hasn't all hit him yet. He's sort of in that place between treating his dad as a witness, and then remembering that it's actually his father."

JJ related, because she was feeling much of the same thing.

Hotch probed more deeply. "And how does he feel about his father, just now?"

"That's the thing, Hotch. William doesn't seem to remember that they're still estranged. He actually apologized for not coming to our wedding."

His brows came together as the unit chief frowned. "I take it Reid's father wasn't invited to the wedding?"

She shook her head. "I would have done it, but Spence wasn't ready. I didn't even bring it up, actually. It was so soon after New Orleans, and…well, I didn't want to do anything to upset him."

Hotch nodded a grim acknowledgement. He was more than familiar with what she'd been feeling. "You were so grateful to have him back, you didn't want to challenge him."

She flashed a brief, sad smile. "I didn't want anything to put a shadow on that time. We'd spent entirely too much of our lives in the dark those days. If it meant not bringing up the subject of his father, I was more than willing to go along with it."

Aaron Hotchner was adept at keeping up a certain level of professionalism in his relationships with those who served under him. It was expected of him, and he recognized the need for some degree of distance among them. But he also realized that they often worked side by side with him, one taking the lead on a certain aspect, another on a different aspect. It was all a give-and-take. As was the case with their relationships.

"It would be understandable if he was still conflicted. I'm sure he's relieved that William will likely recover, but…."

"But that doesn't erase everything that came before. I know. And yet…."

"Yet?"

"It's easier to hate an image than it is to hate a person who's right in front of you. Especially when he's not coming across as an ogre at the moment."

Emotionally, it was all so complex. Reid had hated his father for so long. Yet he'd forgiven him. But not reconciled. He was relieved that the man had survived, but not sure why he was relieved. He was having trouble hating the real, non-threatening human being in the bed, yet troubled that he wasn't hating him, even If that made no sense. It felt disloyal, somehow, to Diana, and to the child Reid had been.

"I think he kind of feels like he's in one of those 'damned if you do, damned if you don't situations," explained JJ.

Having been in exactly that position more times than he wished to count, Hotch understood.

"So, where is he now?"

They'd met in the conference room, but Reid was missing. William was being transferred to a private room, and no visitors were permitted during the transition time.

"He went for a walk. Said he wanted to clear his head."

JJ had recognized the plea for solitude, and respected it. She'd let him go, with only a short word of caution. "Make sure you pay attention to where you are. And look both ways before you cross the street."

The latter had come out as such a reflex statement that they had both been taken by surprise. Reid saw JJ's hand go to her mouth in embarrassment, and chuckled.

"Yes, Mom. And, you're right. Sometimes I don't even notice. So, yes, I'll look both ways when I cross the street. If I'm good, can I have some cookies and milk when I get back?"

She laughed. "Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to." _Because sometimes you and Henry are so alike._ "And I'll see if I can rustle up a treat of some kind for you when you get back."

His hand went under her chin to bring her lips near. When he'd taken advantage, he managed a grin.

"Delayed gratification isn't everything it's cracked up to be."

* * *

He was in an unfamiliar part of the city. The University Medical Center was separated from the main university campus, as well as from the casinos. When he started out on his walk, Reid made a conscious effort to empty his mind of enough turmoil to allow it to note his surroundings. Even an eidetic memory had its limitations. It couldn't recall information that had never been assimilated.

Some people tended to meander as they worked through problems. Not so Spencer Reid. His mind moved at lightning speed anyway, and his stride kept pace. In truth, he didn't know exactly how he felt. He knew only that he was being bombarded by conflicting thoughts and emotions. He hated his father, yet pitied the man in the hospital bed. He'd created an image of his father as a loner, a misanthrope, yet the man had clearly loved his brother. Reid resented William's abandonment of them, and had yet to reconcile that with the news that his father had kept up a relationship with his mother.

_So maybe it was really only me he abandoned._

He could almost taste the bitterness on his tongue.

_Maybe it was just me. Maybe I was too strange for him, something he couldn't relate to. Maybe, if it hadn't been for me, he would have stayed with Mom. Was it_ all _my fault?_

Part of him knew it was the child's voice speaking inside his brain. The immature part of his psyche. He'd worried, from time to time, that his emotional growth had been stifled in his youth, that there were aspects of him that would forever react in childish ways, as though part of him had ceased to develop when his family fell apart. Each time, his brain would present him with a series of images of him lashing out at someone verbally, or making a rash, immature decision. And he would be ashamed.

Becoming a parent had been intimidating. In addition to all the usual fears, Reid had been terrified that his gaps in maturity would surface at just the wrong times, that he would forever mar Henry by making the wrong comment, or the wrong choice. From that, and so much else, JJ had saved him. She'd seen his anxiety, and soothed it.

" _No one is the perfect, parent, Spence. Mine weren't yours weren't, we won't be. I guess I'm a couple of years ahead of you in getting used to that. I had to learn to forgive myself, and you'll have to learn to do the same. And, I guess, Henry will have to learn to forgive both of us, someday."_

Forgiveness. Forgiving a parent. Was that something everyone had to do? But some sins were small, weren't they? And some were monumental. Inevitably, his mind had wandered back into his own dilemma with his father.

_But I did forgive him, didn't I? I know I did. I felt it, I felt the release. Do I have to do it again? Will I have to keep doing it, over and over? Will it never end? What if I can't? What if I can't find it in myself again? Is that my failing? Or his?_

He'd walked for blocks, and blocks, and blocks. In the near distance, he could see some of the casino high rises, their neon signs blaring even in full daylight. Feeling a familiar tug on his heart, he turned, and headed back. For a long time now, his only anchor in a sea of self-doubt had been his wife. He headed back to JJ.

* * *

"Oh….I thought Dr. Reid would be in here."

JJ turned from gazing out the window. "He's taking a little break. Can I help you? I'm his wife."

A woman roughly JJ's age entered the room, hand extended. "I'm Mr. Reid's nurse, Rosaline. He's settled now, so you can visit him, if you like."

The young profiler hesitated a moment, not sure she should be talking to William without Spence. Not certain how her husband would react. And realizing how strange that uncertainty felt.

Her nurturing side declared victory when JJ smiled and followed Nurse Rosaline down a long hallway to William's new room. She lingered outside the door for a few seconds, fortifying herself, and then knocked softly on the door jamb, and entered.

"Hi. Spence is out for a little walk, so I'm afraid I'll have to do for now. Is that all right?"

William's features seemed to have undergone a significant change in the time it had taken to move him from the ICU. He looked strained, troubled, exhausted. JJ was immediately concerned.

"I'm sorry, Mr….William. We upset you with the news about your brother, didn't we?"

He stared at JJ for a long beat before responding, his eyes scanning her face as though studying it for artifice.

"You…I…..I remember. Talking about Danny, and everything else. It jogged my whole memory. All of it. I remember. You didn't say anything, and neither did Spencer. But I remember."

She wasn't quite sure what he remembered. "You remember?"

"What I did. How I left him. Left _them_. I remember it. I was never even invited to your wedding, was I?"

JJ chewed on her lips while she prayed for the right response. It felt like a crisis point in her family's relationship with her father-in-law. When she finally spoke, it wasn't exactly in answer to his question.

"He's forgiven you. He doesn't understand, but he's chosen to forgive. Spence is a good, good man, William."

The elder Reid's eyes looked away, out the window. "He takes after his mother, then."

An internal debate took place before JJ decided to probe. "He knows about the flowers."

William's eyes flew back to hers. "The flo…how? When?"

"It was a part of the investigation. They looked at the charges on your credit card. Mr. Yazzie showed him receipts, and then Spence went to Bennington and spoke with Dr. Norman. He knows you were sending Diana flowers all that time."

William's eyes went to the window, his vision to the past. "Diana loved flowers. And she wasn't to blame for being ill. How could I not try to give her a little pleasure now and then?"

JJ pulled a chair up to sit more comfortably at her father-in-law's bedside. She expected their conversation might be a long one. She still wasn't sure how her husband would feel about her probing. But she was absolutely certain she needed to ask.

"William….why did you leave them? If you knew your wife was ill, why did you leave her? And why did you leave Spence all alone to care for her?"

* * *

Several hours later, JJ closed her phone, now officially worried about her husband. Reid hadn't responded to any of the three texts she'd sent, and her phone calls had all gone directly to voice mail. For a while, she'd been too distracted to notice. She'd begun her effort yesterday evening, but it was only reaching culmination today. Her afternoon had been busy enough to serve as a distraction, but it was now early evening, and there was no sign of the man she loved.

She'd finally decided to try calling him from outside the building, hoping it was just spotty cell service that had gotten between them. _Except that doesn't explain why he's been gone so long._ Remembering her semi-facetious caution to him this morning, JJ began conjuring images of Spence lying in the street, or on a gurney, a hit-and-run victim of his own lack of focus.

_Maybe I should swing by the Emergency Department on the way._ She was about to change direction when she spotted a tousled head just beyond a few intervening bodies.

"Spence! Spence!"

The tousled head turned. He spotted his wife and made his way across the lobby to her.

"Hi. Sorry, I see it's getting dark. I guess I was gone longer than I thought."

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. Just…you know."

_And then some._ But she would tell him later. There was a more pressing matter now.

"Come upstairs with me."

He was immediately concerned. "Is my father all right?"

"He's fine. Well, you know, as fine as he can be. He's settled into his room all right. I just…..I thought you should have something to eat." She tried to sound like she was genuinely concerned about his nutrition.

It wasn't all that far off the mark. Reid hadn't eaten all day.

"I'm still not all that hungry, JJ. Maybe just a little, okay?"

"Whatever you want is fine with me."

They exited the elevator and made their way down the hall. JJ opened the door of the conference room they'd been using, and motioned Reid to go in ahead of her.

"After you."

"All right, brains before beauty." It was an old rag, and it earned him the expected punch on his shoulder. But it was followed by something entirely unexpected.

Reid entered the room anticipating pizza, or a sandwich. What he actually found was nourishment of a completely different sort.

A rain of giggles was followed by an exclamation. "Surprise, Daddy! We're here!"


	24. Chapter 24

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 24**

"Surprise, Daddy! We're here!"

The protective big brother in Henry allowed Rosie to get to their father first.

"Daddy!"

Reid's lightning quick mind barely had time to process all of it before his arms were full of little blondes. He may not have been the most coordinated on the ball field, but he'd long since mastered the art of holding a child in each arm. And the shape of his upper torso was evidence of how often it happened.

"What are you doing here?!"

"It's a 'pise, Daddy!"

"A _sur-_ prise, Rosie. A _sur_ -prise," corrected her older brother. Directing his next words to his father, he said, "Mommy wanted us to surprise you!"

Reid cast a glance at JJ, whose facial expression told him they would talk about it later. So he just basked in the loving embrace of the two littlest people who filled his heart. Looking past them, he saw his in-laws.

"Hi…..and thanks." Reid gently lowered the children to the floor and moved toward the adults behind them. He extended his hand to Charles, who used it to pull him into a quick embrace.

"I'm sorry for what you've been through, Spencer. And I'm glad your father is out of danger."

Reid had time to murmur another quick "Thanks" before Sandy wrapped him in her arms. She may have struggled after the death of her elder daughter so many years ago, but Sandy Jareau had found her way back to the demonstrative, loving self she'd once been.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry for your troubles. Charles filled me in on everything that's happened."

She'd been too wrapped up in the care of the children before. The back of Reid's mind marveled at the true partnership the Jareaus had developed, neither keeping secrets from the other, neither falsely 'protecting' the other.

_They're just open. And, if something hurts one of them, the other is at their side to keep them strong. There's no hiding things, and there's no running away._

He knew it hadn't always been like that between the Jareaus. JJ had told him how it was after her sister died, and her mother entered a prolonged depression. Charles had gone into 'protector' mode with his family…..and then realized how futile it was. Then he'd concluded that the only way to deal with real pain was to face it, and experience it, holding on to one another until the assault subsided. That they had all still been there, still clinging to one another when things had finally turned in a better direction, had been ample evidence that his strategy had been sound.

As a child, Reid had learned much the same thing. His father's abandonment had forced the child Spencer into a situation where he would have had to commit his own act of abandonment in order to avoid his pain. For a great many years he'd felt like he'd done just that…abandoned Diana primarily to ease the discomfort of living with a chronic schizophrenic. In her final days, Diana had relieved him of that burden, acknowledging the dilemma of his choice, and forgiving any residual guilt he carried.

"Thank you," he whispered to his mother-in-law before she released him.

Reid turned quizzical eyes back to his wife. They could discuss it more later, but he needed some sort of explanation now.

"I just thought….your dad's going to be okay, and we're on personal time anyway, and poor Mom and Dad were pretty much house-bound with the kids…..I thought it would be good for all of us."

"But we haven't got anyone in custody….."

"I know. But we figured out he was targeted, right? There's no danger to anyone else."

He conceded it. She hadn't needed to explain. Reid knew JJ would never put their children, or her parents, at risk. "What about school?"

Sandy overheard the question and interjected. "Henry showed me how to e-mail his teacher, so I could get his assignments. But then, apparently, the boiler broke and is going to take a few days to repair, so they are out of school until Monday next week. His teacher wrote back telling us to have a good time. Although she did pass along a little homework. She doesn't want the class to lose momentum, she said."

The homework was apparently news to Henry, who frowned. "Aww….do I have to? We're on vacation!"

JJ ruffled her son's head affectionately. "This is a bonus vacation, Little Man. Bonus vacations come with homework."

"I'll help you if you need me to, Buddy." Reid embraced homework as a father/son activity the way others did fishing, or camping.

JJ stepped over and ushered her husband to the table. "And we really do have food. Eat something, Spence."

Remarkably, Reid's appetite was returning. He settled himself in front of a hamburger and fries, but had to push back from the table when his daughter insisted on getting into his lap. Mimicking a game he'd played with her, Rosie picked up fry after fry and zoomed them into her father's open mouth, giggling each time he snatched one from her fingers.

"It's gonna take you all night to eat like that, Spence."

"Mmmph…..tastes better this way." 

_A dash of Rosie enhancing the flavor of love. What could ever be better?_

* * *

"I still can't believe you did this," he whispered, not wanting to wake the sleeping dynamos in the center of their bed. " _When_ did you do it?"

"Yesterday. Remember I asked Mom to have Dad call me? We decided that, if they were dug out and the roads plowed by morning, they'd get on the first plane west."

As grateful as he was to have his whole family with him, Reid had a concern.

"Um…didn't that cost like…a fortune?" Wishing, for the umpteenth time, that the BAU job came with overtime.

She managed to giggle without shaking the bed. "Only a small one. Mom and Dad traveled a lot after he retired. They had a ton of frequent flyer miles."

"Whew."

"So, where did you go today?"

Reid was still basking in the happiness of being reunited with his children, and didn't really want to think about all that had been troubling him earlier. But none of it had gone away. It had simply been buried in love. He knew it wouldn't stay there for long.

"I just walked. I'm not even sure where I went. But, at some point, I knew I needed to turn around."

She heard the metaphor in it.

"Thinking about your Dad, of course."

"What else?"

"What did you come up with?"

"More questions, mostly. I can't put it together. He walked out on us, but he kept tabs on us. How else would he have known when she went to Bennington? He never sent flowers to our home, so he must have known when she wasn't living at home any more."

"You know, I've been thinking about that, too. About all of it, of course. But I was thinking about that other time we were in Vegas, when you stayed behind….."

"When Henry was born…"

Her smile was tinged with sadness, her feelings about that time complex. Happy to have brought Henry into the world, sad with the knowledge that the boy's father and she couldn't sustain their love. Sadder still to remember that Will was permanently absent from his son's life. Happy that Henry and Reid had bonded so easily, first as godfather and godson, and now as father and son.

All of that flashed through her features in a matter of seconds. Her husband saw, and knew, because he shared it with her.

"Yes. I was thinking that they must have been in contact then. Because you said they came together to see you, but…..how would your father have found her? Or how would she have called him, to say she wanted to tell you the truth? They each had to have known where the other was, and how to reach them."

Reid just stared at her for a moment, and then snorted, sending a vibration through the mattress. He quickly stilled himself as he looked to make sure he hadn't roused the kids.

"See….I married a woman smarter than myself. Can you believe it, in all this time, it never even occurred to me, but you're right. I should have known."

"You were upset, Spence. Even a genius can have trouble concentrating sometimes, right? Although, maybe you're right…..maybe you _did_ marry someone smarter than you."

He grinned at her. "I am more than willing to be outsmarted by the beautiful Jennifer Jareau Reid any day."

She grinned back. "You may regret that, Spencer Reid. But, seriously, you were saying about your dad...?"

"I was saying that it didn't go together. The idea that he would leave us, but still show affection for Mom. That he would care so much about his brother….it just wasn't consistent with the person I've always thought he was."

She tried not to let his hope rise. As much as she'd understood and respected her husband's feelings about his father, she'd also seen them eat away at him. She'd long wished Spence would find his way to resolution, whether it involved reconciliation or not. Anything that would allow him to move forward without that aftertaste of bitterness and resentment that seemed to surface so unexpectedly. Could he be moving in that direction?

"Spence, what are you saying?" She hadn't yet shared with him about this afternoon's conversation with William. It had been lost to the arrival of their family, and this wasn't the right setting for it just now, either.

"Well, at first I kind of concluded that maybe he hadn't run away from my mother. That maybe it was me."

He'd known it would sound childish even before he'd spoken the words. And he'd considered not telling her at all. But she was his sounding board. Withholding from JJ served no purpose except to leave him feeling isolated.

"And?" Her body tensed as she waited for his answer. What he'd been thinking simply wasn't true. But it wasn't entirely _untrue_ either.

"And I realized it didn't make sense. I may have been an unusual child, but I don't think I was particularly difficult. Maybe he felt challenged by my intellect, but it wasn't like he didn't have experience with that. After all, his brother was a genius, too. So I don't think he was running away from me, alone."

"But you still think he was running."

"What else?"

Henry made a half-turn in the bed, prompting Rosie to squiggle until her rump was raised in the air, her sweet toddler breath blowing at her father. Not wanting to risk a full awakening, JJ and Spence each mouthed a "Good night" and an "I love you" to each other.

The rest of their conversation would have to be postponed. There would be time enough tomorrow to face the challenges of that day. For now, all that mattered was that they were together with all of the people they loved. In their crowded hotel bed, in the neon-littered dark of a Las Vegas night, peace descended on the Reid family.


	25. Chapter 25

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 25**

She'd penetrated his dream. He'd been about to make the chess move to beat all chess moves when he felt the eyes of an owl staring down at him from the tree branch just above. And staring, and staring…

Reid blinked his eyes open to find the owl mere centimeters from his face. Rosie had inherited her mother's large, oh-so-blue eyes, and they were boring into him.

"Hi Daddy!"

Reid turned his yawn into an opportunity to put his arm underneath his daughter and scoop her onto his chest. With her laying atop him, he managed to croak, "Morning, Rosie Posie. Did you have a good sleep?" His voice needed coffee.

"I sleep in big bed!" The grin on her face brought one to her dad's as well.

"You liked sleeping in the big bed, did you? Maybe it's time to get you a big girl bed when we get home."

"Big girl!"

"You sure are." _But you'll always be your daddy's little girl._

Reid turned his head to see that Henry was awake as well. Apparently he'd commandeered the TV remote, and was now sitting up in the bed, entranced by a cartoon.

"Hey, Buddy, how did you sleep?"

No answer.

"Little Man?"

Still nothing. Reid finally waved his hand up in down in front of Henry's face to gain his attention.

"Huh? Oh, hi, Daddy."

"Good morning. For a minute there, I thought I was going to have to project myself on the screen to get you to talk to me."

It was too late. The sentence had been too long. Henry's eyes were already back on the cartoon.

Reid gave up and diverted to the last occupant of the bed. For a moment, he allowed himself to luxuriate in the entire tableau…..himself, sharing a morning in bed with his wife and children. He did his best to hold at bay the reason why they all were where they were, and to simply exist in the moment.

_Maybe Father O'Neill is right about one thing, anyway._ Reid hadn't quite come around to the idea of organized religion, but he enjoyed his many discussions…..or debates…..with the pastor. _That thing about God being able to do more than we can ask or imagine….I may have longed for this, but I never….absolutely never…thought I would have it._

A minute later, JJ stirred.

"Hey."

"Good morning, Beautiful."

"Hi Mommy!"

"Good morning, Miss Rosie. Did you sleep well?"

"Big girl bed!"

Reid explained. "We discussed it while you were sleeping."

"Discussed? More like she wrapped you around her little finger."

A beat. "Maybe."

JJ laughed at him, and then tried to get the attention of her son. Finally resorting to the same strategy as Reid, she got Henry to acknowledge her presence.

"Oh, hi, Mommy."

"Hi yourself, Little Man. I think it's time for us to get out of bed now. We need to meet everyone downstairs for breakfast."

The Jareaus would take Henry and Rosie while the Reids went to the hospital to be with William, and the others continued to work the case.

When even the promise of breakfast hadn't broken Henry's trance, JJ grabbed the remote and turned the television off, much to the moaning consternation of her son. As she scooted him into the bathroom, JJ turned to Reid.

"We are _never_ putting a TV in his bedroom." She started to follow Henry into the bathroom, but turned back. "And not in hers, either. Even if I have to unwrap you from her little finger."

"Yes, ma'am."

* * *

Morgan looked at his watch again. "Does it really take this much longer to get two kids up and dressed? I mean, come on….they're _little_. Little tiny shirts and little tiny pants, and…."

"And little tiny fingers that get stuck in buttonholes, and little tiny toes that ball up when you're trying to put on their shoes…." Emily had spent quite a bit of time with her goddaughter. Having missed their arrival last night, she was looking forward to spending a little time with her this morning.

"Ah, but they are very _cute_ little tiny fingers and toes, aren't they?" added Miss Rosie's proud godfather.

Morgan just rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he didn't like children. He had, in fact, become attached to a few he'd met in the course of his work. But they'd all been older kids, little persons who could carry on a full conversation with him. Whenever Morgan tried to envision a future that included children, all that would come to him was an image of himself on a ball field, giving pointers to a faceless son or daughter. His imagination skipped over infancy and toddlerhood completely, every time.

He changed the subject. "Now that his dad is awake, what do you think Reid will do?"

"What are you thinking?" asked his unit chief.

"I'm thinking that he hated this guy for all these years, then he practically holds a bedside vigil while the man is in a coma. I mean, I get that the man has no other family, so maybe the Kid didn't feel like he had a choice. But now that his dad is awake again, what does he do? Does he stay by his side, maybe find some kind of relationship…..or does he just say, ' _okay, you're awake, see you later'_?"

He had no frame of reference. For the ten-year-boy Derek Morgan had been when tragedy had separated them, his father had never been anything other than his hero.

A moment passed with no response from the rest, as though it had been a rhetorical question. But one among them was merely giving it due consideration. Aaron Hotchner was much more familiar with the complexities of the father/son relationship, from both sides of the coin. The man of extreme privacy surprised them all when he offered his thoughts.

"I lost my father when I was young. Not as young as you did, Morgan, but….still. Maybe it was because I was older that our relationship was different from the one you had with your father….or maybe it was just because we were who we were. All I know is that I'd decided my father had feet of clay. He wasn't as understanding as he should have been, wasn't as kind….wasn't as faithful. Sometimes he could be outright cruel. In some ways, I hated him. But there were times I still looked up to him, still cared what he thought, even though I was disgusted with myself for caring. I even still wanted his advice….but I wouldn't ask for it. And then it all became moot…because he was gone."

He may as well have been dancing on the table in his underwear. To say that it was unusual for Hotch to share his private thoughts would have been a severe understatement. That he was sharing them with three other members of his team was anathema. But Emily saw through it. Or rather, she recognized it.

_Unfinished business._ She should know, she had enough of her own. Which made her decide to help her boss…her friend….through his.

"Our very first relationships are with our parents….the ones who conceived us, and the ones who raised us, even when they're not the same people. They're a large part of how we figure out who we are, and who we want to be."

Rossi chimed in. "Even if who we want to be is defined as 'anyone but them'." The conversation had brought him back to his own earliest relationships.

"Exactly," agreed Emily. "So, it's pretty normal to have mixed feelings about them. At least, I _hope_ it is."

The others smiled in solidarity with her, as Hotch nodded his appreciation.

"I hope so too. But, what I was going to say was that, looking back on that time from my adulthood…..now that I'm a father myself….I realize how fragile those relationships can be. How tenuous. How hard it is to do the right thing every time, even if you can figure out what it is. I like to think that Jack still sees me as his hero, but I know it's only a short time before he starts to question that. Before he wonders about….everything."

Rossi had already been a bit of a sounding board for his old friend on this subject. And he'd tried to be encouraging. But they both knew that it was inevitable. Jack Hotchner would, one day, realize how his life had been affected by the choices his father had made. How he would react was a question that always weighed heavily in his father's mind. Rossi tried to offer some encouragement.

"He will. It's a healthy thing when a young man begins to question. But it's also a healthy thing when his older self begins to accept. We're all faulty creatures, we humans. We all make mistakes, we all do the wrong thing, some of the time. The big question is, do we forgive?"

Morgan had been listening silently to each of his colleagues, giving due thought to their remarks. But he was stuck on one thing.

"I don't know, Rossi. The man ran out on them. He was no hero to Reid. Pretty Boy doesn't have that image to reconcile anything with. The man just ran away and left them on their own. Are you saying it was just a mistake?"

Rossi had too much life experience to be ruffled. "I guess that depends on why he did it. We don't know, and neither does Reid. I know he gave Reid some cockamamie excuse when we were here before, but I'd have to be a lousy profiler to believe it. To get back to your original question, Morgan…..about what Reid will do? My guess is that he'll ask his father a question. And he'll evaluate the answer."

"And?"

Hotch fielded it. "And he'll either see his own fragility in what his father tells him, or he won't. He'll relate to it, or he won't."

Morgan finished for him, answering his own question. "And he'll either keep William Reid in his life….or he won't.

* * *

Charles and Sandy made it downstairs ahead of the Reid clan. They greeted the team and caught up on sundries while they waited for the others. Finally, Henry came running into the café and over to their table.

"Hi, Uncle Thunder!" By now, even though he didn't get the joke, Henry knew it was a tease.

Morgan gave Henry the fist-bump he'd taught the youngster. "How's my man? Only a few weeks to 'pitchers and catchers'." They'd bonded over baseball.

"Yay!"

As he entered the café, Reid lowered Rosie to the floor. Immediately she toddled over toward the BAU table, aiming herself at Rossi's open arms.

"Here's my girl!"

Emily rolled her eyes. Rossi was so besotted with Rosie that he unwittingly monopolized her whenever they were all together.

"Rossi, she's _my_ girl, too."

Henry was very direct with the godparents. "Actually, she belongs to Mom and Dad. And me, too."

Rosie didn't care. She was too busy beguiling the whole table with her smile. Even Morgan.

"You're a little cutie, aren't you? Just like your mom." He reached out to pinch her cheek, more because he thought that was what was generally done, than because he was particularly moved to do it.

"Who belongs to me," whispered Reid, as he leaned over to grab a mug from the table. He'd been soft enough that only Morgan could hear.

His 'big brother' just grinned at him, remembering a time when Reid had actually been insecure enough to think that Morgan might try to woo JJ right out from under him.

"Indeed she does," he whispered back.

The Jareaus thanked their daughter and son-in-law for the child-free evening, but announced that they were ready to show Henry and Rosie around Las Vegas. Fairy godmother Penelope had provided them with a full itinerary, complete with free passes to a number of venues.

"We'll check in with you during the day. Please give William our best." Sandy Jareau had been through too much tragedy in her own life to believe that any relationship was ever over….at least, any relationship not separated by death.

Allowing Henry his last bite of chocolate chip pancake, they took the kids back to the room to freshen up before they headed out. That gave the BAU team the opportunity to discuss the case freely.

"So, we know Reid's dad was assaulted, from the injury to his head." Morgan started them off.

"And we have a general description of the weapon used," added Emily. "Something elongated and rounded, like a pole, or a bat."

"And we have a possible motive in William maybe going to confront Albrecht about his taking credit for Daniel's discovery." But Rossi knew it was only a _possible_ motive, and a _possible_ identification of the assailant.

"Right. But my Dad doesn't remember being attacked, and he can't remember anything that happened afterward." As did the others, Reid thought they'd solved the case. But they couldn't prove it.

JJ went to the implications. "So, we think this was targeted against William, right? We don't think anyone else is in danger?"

Morgan agreed with her. "But they should pay for what they did. We still need to bring them in."

Rossi nodded in acknowledgement, but he thought there was more to it. He made eye contact with Hotch, who apparently agreed.

"We have an old case as well. This may be related to Daniel Reid's murder. We should assume we have two cases to resolve."

Unexpectedly, Reid felt his heart pounding. His uncle had been, for a very long time, a lost memory. Now that he'd become real, the nephew felt defensive of him.

_Maybe because I relate to him, because it sounds like we were so much alike. Maybe not. All I know is that I want to vindicate him. I want it known that he didn't take his own life. I want him to be remembered as someone who still had hope, who planned for the future, who lived a life that helped others, however short it was. I need to make this happen. I need it for me. Not for my Dad._

_Right?_


	26. Chapter 26

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 26**

Charles exited the elevator with his granddaughter just as the team finished their meeting. JJ planned to go upstairs to help her mother pack supplies for the kids for the day, leaving Reid free to stay with the others.

"Hi Daddy!" Rosie was in the habit of greeting them each time she saw them.

Charles easily transferred his granddaughter into her father's waiting arms.

"Any word from the hospital this morning?"

"I spoke with his nurse. She says he's pretty alert today. Still needs some pain meds, but his liver and renal functions seem to be improving."

"So, he'll probably be able to speak to you a bit more." Charles studied his son-in-law, and noticed the tightening in his jaw.

"I guess."

"Jennifer tells me he remembered about the status of your relationship."

Reid did his best not to react. "That's what I understand."

Charles Jareau had never pictured his daughter being with someone like Spencer Reid. Not that he'd found it easy to picture his daughter ever living with and loving 'another man' at all. That pretty much went with fatherhood, he supposed. But Charles had always thought his daughter would go for an athlete, someone whose interest and prowess in sports matched her own. Someone 'in charge'. An alpha male. Not someone like his son-in-law. Spencer Reid was a verifiable geek.

When Jennifer had first begun to mention him in the course of talking about her work and her team, it had gone right by Charles. But Sandy had heard it. A curiosity that had gradually morphed into interest, and then respect, and then, a genuine honest 'like' for her colleague. It was Sandy who had first alerted Charles, that time long ago when Jennifer had told them her choice of a godfather for her firstborn.

"She thinks very highly of him, Charles. I know he's not family, but….what does it matter, if our daughter thinks he would be a good influence on her son?"

They'd met Reid at the christening. Even then, Charles had only paid perfunctory attention. After all, his daughter was living with another man, the father of her child. And how often did a godparent have to get involved in the raising of a child, anyway? At the ceremony, Spencer had performed his duties, looking fairly uncomfortable whenever he had to hold the infant Henry, and relieved when Penelope Garcia had taken the child from him. Afterward, Sandy had spoken a bit to Reid, perhaps even then sensing his lack of a maternal figure. But Charles had simply shaken his hand, made one or two unsuccessful attempts at conversation, and moved on. A subsequent meeting at one of Henry's birthday parties had gone no better.

The virtual non-relationship between the two men had changed without their even coming together. The next time they'd actually spoken in person had been when Reid had come to ask for Jennifer's hand. Whenever he thought back on that exchange, Charles grinned. He'd thought his future son-in-law might actually pass out from anxiety. And he hadn't made it easy for the young man. He'd challenged him, pushed him about his intentions, about his ability to be to Jennifer all that she might need him to be. For Charles, it had been merely an exercise, a test. He'd long since been converted to his daughter's faith in the man before him in that moment. He'd long since been aware of his devotion, and steadfast resolution. He'd demonstrated it when Jennifer had been so severely injured. But Reid had fielded it as a sincere question. And he'd risen to the occasion. He'd countered Charles, declared his intentions, pointed out his faithfulness in difficult times. And Charles had done the only thing he could have done, the thing he'd already known he would do. He and Sandy had given Reid the permission he'd sought…to love their daughter as they, themselves, had….unceasingly, and without reservation.

All of that history, and so much more, flashed through Charles' mind as he spoke to his son-in-law this morning. He was aware that there were parts of Spencer's history that had not yet been shared with him. But he was savvy enough to know that the man who loved his daughter, and was so dedicated to being a good father, had not, himself, been fathered. Charles recognized both the opportunity, and the need.

_You may not be mine, son, but that doesn't mean I can't be a stand-in._

"Would you like to walk with me a bit, until they've gotten themselves organized?"

The two men set off down the sidewalk, Rosie a willing passenger in her father's arms. Charles had given thought to the conversation, but still felt the need to pray for wisdom.

"It must have been strange for you, before he remembered. Having him talk to you as a father would a son."

Reid knew Charles wasn't actually expecting a response. But he gave one anyway. "It was."

"You were very young when he left you, weren't you?"

"Eleven."

Charles nodded. "Very young. It's hard to imagine what would make a man walk out on his family."

Reid related to the statement…..and he didn't. He knew that _he_ would find it literally impossible to ever consider such a thing. But, on the other hand, he knew _exactly_ what made William walk out.

"Apparently all it takes is having a wife who is ill and a son who needs you."

Immediately after he'd started the sentence, he'd tried to stop the rest of it from coming out. But it wouldn't be stopped. The bitterness was still that strong, so strong that Charles actually flinched upon hearing it. The older man shook his head slowly back and forth as he responded.

"I'm sorry that happened to you, son. I can't conceive of it. Not to the point of actually walking out."

They were making a slow stroll around the block of the hotel, Rosie unusually quiet as she looked back over her father's shoulder. It was as though she understood the gravity of the conversation. Or maybe she just felt the sadness in her father's posture.

Reid had grown to love his father-in-law, once he'd gotten past the terror of telling Charles he wanted to marry his only remaining daughter. He relied on the man in the ways he wished he'd been able to rely on his own father. He trusted Charles with the care of his family, he valued his counsel, he treasured being called 'son'. He'd slowly become attuned to nuances in the man's words, and thus was brought to attention when Charles mitigated his verbal rebuke of William's behavior. He couldn't conceive of the elder Reid's behavior, he'd said. But then qualified it with 'not to the point of actually walking out'.

Reid needed to know. "What do you mean?"

Charles took a few steps to organize his thoughts. The most stressful time in the life of his family was long in the past, but the reverberations of it had threatened to tear them apart. Even now, so many years later, talking about it brought him right back to that period of anxiety. But he wanted to help his son-in-law

"You know, Spencer, when I was a much younger man, I looked at everything as either/or. Black or white. Right or wrong. For us, or against us. But life taught me differently. Little by little, I started to learn that things just didn't work that way. And then, one day, I was thrown into a virtual sea of gray. My daughter had taken her own life. I'd failed her. I'd failed my wife, I'd failed Jennifer. I hadn't kept my own family safe. I wasn't the man I'd always wanted to be. I wasn't the man I'd _thought_ I was."

Reid heard the pain still evident in Charles' voice, all these years later. "But….you were only human. It wasn't like you didn't _want_ to prevent it."

Charles nodded. "That's what I told myself. I had all the best intentions in the world, and still I'd failed. And, after that, I nearly lost my wife. I could easily have lost the entire family I'd taken such pride in building."

He knew his daughter had shared that part of their story with her husband. Sandy had fallen into a long depression that had distanced her from her husband and remaining daughter. The family had been the subject of much gossip and finger-pointing. It could understandably have broken them all apart.

"But you didn't." _You pulled it together. You stood firm, and gave JJ something to hold on to. Thank God._

"No, I didn't, thankfully. But I could have. And I realized that. It took away my pride, Spencer. It was…..it was the most humbling time of my life. I had to admit….to myself, first….and then to Sandy…my faults. A false pride in anything I'd accomplished, and the family I was gifted with. It was as though I'd been taking credit for having such good fortune. But if I took credit for the good, I had to take blame for the bad. And then, one day, finally, I realized…."

Reid stopped walking, and turned to his father-in-law. All week he'd felt like he was drowning in an ocean of doubt, and long-harbored ill will, and it felt as though Charles was about to throw him a life preserver. He found it hard to get beyond a whisper.

"What? What did you realize?"

"That it was _all_ shades of gray. That a good man could fail. That evil is insidious. That none of us can accomplish anything on our own. I learned to be humble. I learned to seek out the strength in my wife, even when she felt at her weakest. I leaned on her…..and she leaned back on me….and we created a core that was firm enough to hold us together. But it would never have happened if I hadn't learned humility."

He wanted so badly for Charles to have the answer for him. To just remove the ambivalence and tell him how to feel about his father.

"Are you saying I need to be humble?" Reid's list of insecurities had dwindled since he'd been with JJ, but it wasn't empty. And yet, he also had a well-deserved ego about his intellectual prowess.

"I'm not trying to push you in one direction or the other, Spencer. Only you can decide, in the end, what kind of relationship you'll have, or not have, with your father. And I don't know that there _is_ a right answer. I'm just suggesting that, if you're to figure this out at all…..you might need to be willing to enter the gray zone with him."

They walked another half block in silence, as Reid weighed Charles' words. He felt like there was still something he couldn't quite grasp about the dilemma. As they turned the corner and once again approached the main doors to the hotel, he spoke.

"I already know about the gray. I mean….I see it every day. We see unspeakable crimes committed by people who are often just…damaged. Not evil. Ask JJ…I'm probably the one who's most likely to try to relate to an unsub. I _get_ them, sometimes. I can tell they're just lost."

Charles knew. "And yet?"

"I know. I know, it makes no sense. I can do it with a serial killer, but not with my own father."

They'd arrived at their destinations….the hotel, and the point of the conversation.

"Most eleven year olds are still living in black and white."

Reid's head shot sideways, reacting to a lightning bolt of recognition. When it came to his father, he measured his life in two segments. Before William left them, and after. Before age eleven, and after. White….and black. But maybe Charles was right. Maybe he needed to enter the gray zone. Maybe he'd been approaching his father from the standpoint of his eleven-year-old self. Maybe he needed to bring the adult Spencer Reid to the encounter.

_Now all I have to figure out is whether I want to._

* * *

JJ decided to break through the quiet on their way to the hospital. She'd seen the unrest in her husband, and wisely taken the keys from him once again.

"You okay?"

It was a moment before her words penetrated the maelstrom of thought inside his head.

"Yeah, just…yeah."

In all his vast vocabulary, he couldn't find the words to express what was going on inside. Not to her, and not to himself. His emotions were trying to trump his intellect, and he didn't know what to do about it.

She'd seen him like this a few times in the past, and decided to take another approach. Sometimes it helped him come out of himself.

"Did you and Dad have a good talk?"

He wasn't ready for that, either, and tried to deflect. "We just walked around the block while you and your mom got the kids' stuff ready."

JJ threw him a sideways look. "Right."

He caught the look. "He's a good man, your dad."

No argument there. "The best."

"I thought I was the best." Maybe humor would help him divert the conversation.

The very wise JJ decided she was willing to let her husband keep his thoughts to himself, if that's what he needed. But she would temper his ego.

"All right, neither of you. _Henry's_ the best."

* * *

While Reid checked in with the nurses, JJ fielded a phone call from Morgan.

"Garcia got a ping on a credit card. It belonged to the grandson's wife, but it was in her maiden name, so it took Baby Girl more than her usual magical minute. It was from a gas station about fifty miles south of Vegas, sounds like they were driving back to Arizona. Hotch has the state police looking for them, and Prentiss and I are headed in that direction now."

"Great. Are we thinking all three generations are traveling together?"

"No. Albrecht...the old man...lives in San Francisco. Garcia can't find a plane or train ticket for him, but we're thinking he might be traveling privately. He's got enough money. So Baby Girl's looking for connections to any private jets that might have been in or out of the airport in the past week. Hotch and Rossi are headed there now."

It wasn't quite where they wanted to be, but it was something. And they'd resolved cases with much less.

"All right. I'll tell Spence."

Morgan was as worried about his little brother as anyone. "Hey, Blondie…you tell him…..whatever he thinks is right…. _is_. Don't let him get all up in his head like he does, okay?"

She smiled at the show of affection. _I don't think I'll ever be able to keep him out of his head, Morgan._ Nor was she sure she should try. _  
_

"I'll tell him you're behind him. Not that he doesn't already know."

They signed off just as Reid came back to the conference room.

"They said he had a good night, and might even be ready for discharge tomorrow. His liver function is back to normal, but the renal function is lagging behind."

"But it's still good enough for him to go home?"

"You have to be pretty sick to be in the hospital these days. They think he'll need some physical therapy, but the rest should just continue to improve on its own."

She could tell there was something bothering him…something besides _everything_ …..but she couldn't make out what it was.

"Spence?"

His eyes dropped to the floor. "They were asking if someone would be there when he goes home. And I couldn't….."

She rescued him. "Of course you couldn't. You have a job and a family, thousands of miles away. We can arrange for an aide if he needs one." 

_I_ _t doesn't have to be about your relationship._

He visibly brightened, relieved of the unexpected burden. "Right. An aide."

Reid looked even more encouraged when JJ told him Morgan's news. And his advice.

"You should listen to him, Spence. There isn't a single right answer here." She moved in close to him, patting his chest. "And I know this heart in here. It's good, and it's true, and it won't lead you astray. Listen to it."

He pulled her to him, lifting his chin so he could rest it atop her head. The conference room around him dissolved, and he saw himself standing at a crossroads, not certain of his direction, nor even his destination. He knew only that he couldn't remain in place, that life wasn't lived in stasis. He would have to move forward, in one direction or another. And he knew that, whichever path he took, he would have his life's companion at his side.

She'd felt the tension in every strand of sinew, and then felt it relax as he released her.

"Do you want me to go in with you?"

He took her face in his hands and brought her lips to his, lingering in the kiss. Then he pulled back and drank deeply from the blue in her eyes. Fortified, he was ready.

"No, it's okay. I think I need to do this alone."


	27. Chapter 27

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 27**

He approached the door slowly, and with some trepidation. But the man he saw through the window looked anything but menacing. He looked pale, frail, thin…small.

Reid knocked softly on the doorjamb as he entered.

"Hi, Dad."

William seemed to hunch more closely upon himself in the bed, not quite certain what to expect from Spencer. His eyes searched his son's face for some sign of what was to come. Now that he'd remembered their alienation, William was entirely unsure of how or why Spencer was even speaking to him, let alone seeing to his care.

His voice belied his apprehension. "Hello, Spencer."

Reid took a few steps into the room, but stopped well short of the bedside.

"The nurses said you had a good night. And your labs are showing improvement."

Not, ' _how are you'_ , or ' _do you feel better'_. More of a clinical imparting of information. Detached. Impersonal.

"Oh…well, that's good." _I guess._

"They said you might be ready to go home as early as tomorrow."

That drew a reaction from William. His numbers might have been improving, but he still felt extremely weak.

"Tomorrow?"

Reid tried to interpret without asking. To ask would imply more concern than he was willing to admit he felt. But it seemed as though his father was frightened at the thought of being home alone.

"JJ says they can get you an aide…someone who can help you at home."

"Oh." A slight look of relief.

There ensued a moment of silence that seemed interminable, even if it lasted less than a minute. William broke it with an observation.

"She's even more beautiful in person."

Reid had been studying the scene out the window, but his eyes now shot back to William's.

"How did you know what she looked like? Were you googling her, too?"

Reid's reaction caught both of them by surprise. Immediately after the words were out, each of them winced. Reid, because he'd not been quick enough to stop his mouth once he'd realized what it was about to emit, and William, because of the venom behind the words, and the knowledge that he was so deserving of it.

In mirror fashion, each looked, startled, at the other. And then both Reid men spoke simultaneously, and with the very same words. "I'm sorry."

William lifted a weak arm partly into the air, dismissing his son's apology. "You don't need to apologize, Spencer. I understand why you're cynical, and I can't say I blame you."

Reid agreed with his father, but nothing about it made him happy. He _was_ entitled to be cynical, and yet…. despite having matured greatly in the past few years, it had taken only a few seconds for him to feel like he'd regressed to adolescence.

Before he could respond, William went on. "It's true, I substituted the internet for a real relationship with you. I let myself be satisfied with knowing _about_ you, rather than knowing _you_. That's a sorry excuse for a father, by anyone's definition."

He had Reid's attention now. When they'd had that last conversation, years ago, William had issued a perfunctory apology and what Reid considered to be a lame excuse for abandoning his family. Afterwards, there had been no further attempt at reconciliation between the two. But just now, it seemed like the father was acknowledging his faults in a way the son had only hoped he would.

"Why?" The plaintive eleven year old had spoken.

William shook his head. "There will never be a good enough reason, Spencer. I did it, that's all."

"But…why? Why couldn't you stay with us? Try harder? Was it so terrible being a family?"

"Of course not. But….."

"But, what?"

"But….it wasn't about that. I wasn't about you, nor even your mother. Not directly, anyway."

Reid was confused. "I thought you said it was because of the killing. Of how she knew about Riley's father avenging him."

William's eyes sought the window. "It was convenient, given the circumstance."

Reid's eyes narrowed. "Convenient?"

Reluctantly, William turned back to his son. "It was the topic of our conversation at the time, wasn't it? I'd been grilled about Riley's death, and then about killing his killer…..and then your mother came forward to tell the truth." There was a trace of resentment in his voice as he recounted the events, and Reid reacted to it.

"Well, it made sense, didn't it? I remembered you burning bloody clothes. It was a natural conclusion that you'd been involved."

William's eyes bored into Reid's. "Did you really believe I could kill someone, Spencer?"

Holding his breath, awaiting his son's reply. They had been family, once upon a time. William remembered it. But he needed to know that his son did, as well.

After one too many beats of hesitation, Reid responded. "No…I don't…I don't know." A moment more, during which William uttered more silent prayer than he'd done in decades, then, "No."

The one word had a profound effect on William. Reid watched as his father tried to regain his composure, then the younger man spoke into the open space between them.

"But…if it wasn't that….What? Why?"

Without thinking, Reid moved toward the side of the bed and sank into a chair. He was a solver of puzzles. Here, finally, he hoped he might encounter the missing piece to the puzzle of his life.

William's face reflected a moment of internal debate, followed by a certain resolution. He would answer Spencer's question, to the best of his ability. After all, everything had changed in the past day. His choice, and the reason for it, had been proven false. He felt both foolish and relieved.

"Your mother and I had only been married a year when my parents died. There was a wrong-way driver on the interstate, he hit them head on...and they were both gone, instantly. Danny was just a kid…..only ten years old. Even then, he was…so bright…..he was like you, really."

Confirmation of something Reid had begun to suspect over the past week. He'd always thought his genius had come from his mother's side of the family. After all, Diana, too, had had an unusual brain.

"He was devastated, poor kid. I'd been out of the house for a long time before that, so all he really had was our parents. Anyway, he came to live with us….for a while."

Reid was wrapped up in the story. "I don't remember him being there," he whispered.

"He wasn't. Not full time, anyway. Not after you were born. That was about when he went off to college. But he spent his time off with us."

"I don't understand. What does Uncle Daniel have to do with….."

"He struggled, Spencer. Emotionally. I don't know that the bullying was as bad in his day as it was in yours, but it was there. He was different, and we all knew it, and it cost him. I didn't know how to handle it, or him…..so I listened to the 'experts'." The last word carried an element of resentment. "They told me the best thing was to get him through high school as quickly as possible, and send him away to college. They said the college kids would be more mature about him."

Reid was fascinated. He'd overheard his own school counselors telling his mother something very similar.

"But they weren't?" For Reid, college had been something of an oasis. He felt sorry if it hadn't been the same for his Uncle Daniel.

"Oh, no….they were. It was just…he was such a smart kid, but he wasn't all that emotionally mature. And he'd had this devastating loss, and a complete upheaval in his life. And….."

William broke off, and Reid could see he was debating whether to complete his sentence. The son encouraged the father.

"Go ahead. We're in it now, I may as well know everything."

William nodded. "Your mother. She'd had a few symptoms even before we married, but we only recognized them in retrospect. But it was starting to show itself more and more. Mood swings, nonsense speech. Poor Danny didn't know what to make of it. Neither did we. And it terrified all three of us."

Reid didn't want to divert the conversation, but they'd now entered new territory for him, and he needed to know. It hadn't been in her journals.

"How did she get diagnosed?"

His father's eyes settled on a middle distance in the room, as his mind brought him back over thirty years.

"She had an episode of catatonia. She still had them, sometimes, even years later…."

They both realized he was referencing the fact that he'd kept up with Diana even to the time of her death. But that part of the story would have to wait for a later point in the conversation.

"Anyway…..she hadn't moved, literally, for a full weekend. That's when I called her doctor, and he had me call a psychiatric emergency service. It was the first time she was hospitalized."

"And they diagnosed her?"

"They gave her some meds, and when she'd come out of it, they got the rest of the history. It was a classic case, according to the psychiatrist."

"So you had Danny, and Mom…." Despite his anger and resentment, Reid was beginning to feel some of the burden William must have shouldered at the time. But he squelched the sympathy that wanted to rise.

"Poor Danny. He needed someone who could support him, who could play the parent role and comfort him, and advocate for him. And I couldn't give him the attention he needed."

They were approaching something that had always stymied Reid, even if he was glad for the outcome. "Dad….if she was already sick…..and if you already had someone else to take care of….why….."

His father knew exactly what he was asking. "Why did we have you?"

Reid nodded.

"I don't want to bruise your ego, Spencer, but….you weren't exactly planned. I guess that puts you in good company with more than half the world." He chanced a small smile. "We'd talked about it, but decided we had to wait. Your mother was still trying to find the right combination of drugs to help her. She'd always wanted to have a child, but, when we were first married, she was finishing up her thesis, and then Danny came, and then…well, really, _before_ then, but we hadn't realized….then her illness."

"So…"

William watched a distant memory behind eyes cast at the bedcovers. "Whether she purposely went off her birth control, or became confused about the pills….or even if the psychiatric meds interfered ….whatever it was, we found out she was pregnant."

Reid was almost afraid to ask. "Was she happy?"

His father heard the plaintive note in his son's voice. "She was _very_ happy, Spencer."

Reid's eyes closed in relief. He remembered that Diana had gone off her meds during his gestation, and prayed to hear that she hadn't seen the entire thing as a burden of obligation. _At least she wanted me. But….._

"What about you?" _Did you ever want me?_

A tell-tale breakaway of William's gaze, and Reid had his answer. But his father clarified.

"I was afraid, Spencer. Mostly, I was afraid for her. Of what it would do to her, to go untreated for nine months. I'm sorry to say this now, but…..I tried to convince her it wasn't the right thing. That it would be safer to…wait. To try again later."

Reid was more shaken by the admission than he'd expected. It forced him to contemplate the real possibility of never having come into being. 

_Of course, I wouldn't be here to think about it. So I wouldn't really be missing anything, right?_

But what about the others whose lives he'd impacted? 

_What about Rosie?!_

William's eyes narrowed in on his son, who was clearly lost in some distressing thought.

"For the record, Spencer…I'm happy we went ahead. I'm happy we had a son who grew into such a fine man. In the end, I couldn't imagine having made any other choice."

Reid wasn't about to give his father a show of gratitude about it. This entire conversation had flooded him with memories...the words, the slamming of doors, the sight of his father pulling away from the house, the sound of his mother screaming after him. Most viscerally, the fear of the child who'd been rejected, left to fend for himself, left to parent his own mother. All of it assaulted Reid, and he lashed out at his father again.

"Maybe she should have listened to you. That would have made it all easier, wouldn't it? Because, let's face it, Dad, you _had_ wanted to make another choice. And then, one day, you did, didn't you? _"  
_

William barely flinched at the barb, considering it well-earned. "I did, you're right. And I will never be able to express to you how sorry I am about it."

"You're right, you won't." Too pent up to remain seated, Reid rose and started pacing. He spat back at his father, "You couldn't possibly say how sorry you are about it, because it couldn't ever be enough!"

It had been so long in coming. Decades of the child's bewilderment grown into the adolescent's resentment and the adult's distain, poured into words. It should have felt cathartic. But, to Reid, watching William curl a little more into himself, it felt like hitting a wounded man. In several ways, that was exactly what it was, and yet Reid couldn't have stopped himself even if he'd wanted to. Which he didn't. He simply couldn't find the desire to stop.

William unfurled himself enough to speak.

"You're right. You're right, Spencer. It couldn't…and yet…now…..it's all different….God, how I wish I'd known…"

"Known what? That I would manage to grow up anyway? That I would be able to make something of myself? If you'd known that, you would have stayed? Is that what you're saying?"

Emotion ramped up Reid's volume with each sentence, until he'd drawn the attention of William's nurse, who'd hurried to the doorway to check on her patient.

"Is everything all right in here?"

"Sorry…"started Reid, but he was overspoken by his father.

"We haven't seen each other in a long time," was William's non-explanation.

The step-down unit had hosted many an impassioned family interaction in the past, and the experienced nurse recognized this as simply another in a long succession. But, though the conflict was theirs, the territory was hers.

"Try to keep it down, all right?" She looked at both of them as she said it, but directed her next words only at the younger Reid. "And try not to upset him, will you? It gets his heart rate up. He's still on the monitor and I can't be running down here all day long."

As she left them, Reid turned to his father and said, "She's right. I should just go."

But William stopped him. "No, Spencer. Not like this. Please."

Reid didn't see the point. "It's all in the past, Dad. Neither of us can change it. Just like we can't change how we feel."

William pleaded with him. "Spencer…..I know I don't deserve your indulgence, but I'm asking for it anyway. What I did was wrong, even if it didn't seem so at the time. That I stayed away after was…unforgivable. I know I'll never be able to forgive _myself_. Your mother was right about that, you know. She said I was weak….and I believed her. And then I lived up to it."

Reid felt like they were skirting around some issue he still didn't understand. He resumed his seat at the bedside.

"All right. You have something you want to say. Go ahead and say it."

It took William a few moments to organize his words, and then a soft, controlled voice told the story.

"I've already told you that I felt like I didn't know how to be to Danny everything he needed me to be. He was…you know, Spencer, I'm not exactly unintelligent, but Danny…he was like you. His intelligence far exceeded his maturity, when he was young. He was still a kid, after all. He struggled, especially when the other kids found him too different to play with…..too different to be kind to. And I told you, I followed the advice of the people at his school and sent him off to live away from us when he was still very young. I thought it was the best thing and, at first, it seemed so. He came back to be with us during his vacations, and he seemed pretty happy. So I was shocked….completely rocked off my foundation…..when he died. The police told us it was suicide. And I felt like it was my fault. Like I should have _seen_ something. Like I should have _known_. If I'd been more observant, maybe I could have stopped it. Maybe I could have gotten him some help."

Reid was once again feeling the connection between himself and his uncle. Their young lives had shared many similarities. _But Uncle Daniel was never been granted the rest of his life. It was taken from him._

"Uncle Daniel didn't commit suicide."

William filled up at that. "I know that, now. Thanks to you. Thank you, Spencer."

Feeling uncomfortable with his father's gratitude, Reid moved them along.

"Is that what you wanted to tell me? That you thought he'd killed himself, but you're relieved to find out he was murdered?" It sounded absurd to both of them.

"No! Well, yes, but….. it was the reason why I left. I felt like it was my fault. I thought I'd failed Danny. That maybe I'd actually helped cause his death. And that made me afraid for you, Spencer. You and Danny were so alike, and…..I was afraid it would hurt you. That _I_ would hurt you. Not physically, I could never have done that. But emotionally…mentally…..I felt like I wasn't enough for what all of you needed, and I thought it would hurt you. I was afraid I would lose you, too."

The incongruity of it impacted Reid, pushing him back in his chair. As mighty as his brain was, it struggled to make sense of what William had just told him. Several confused moments later, he paraphrased his father.

"You were afraid you wouldn't be enough for me…..so you made sure of it, by leaving?"

William hurried to correct him. "No! No, I ….I know it sounds ridiculous now, Spencer, but at the time, I believed it. Sincerely, with everything in me. I was convinced that I'd contributed to Danny's death. Not just that I'd failed to prevent it, but somehow, in being inadequate, I'd helped cause it. And I couldn't allow that to happen to you."

The anger in Reid wilted, just a little bit. Either his father was a skilled liar, or he was telling a genuine tale of their shared past. He'd dealt with too many unsubs to confuse the two. Reid chose to believe his father, however misguided he considered the man's thought process. Instinctively, he began to draw upon his unsub-interviewing skills, the irony not at all lost on him. _Go with them, to see where they take you. Go with Dad.  
_

Drawing on his soft voice, Reid started in.

"Okay, let's assume that's correct. I can understand how you'd be afraid. But how could you think that leaving me alone with Mom could be a good idea?"

William responded with a challenge. "Are you saying you would have wanted to be separated from her, Spencer? Your mother loved you."

"I know she did. And I loved her. Very much. But I needed a parent."

His father had the grace to look guilty. "I know. And I'm sorry. She wasn't that ill when I left, and I'd hoped the doctors would find the right treatment….."

"Are you saying you didn't know how much she spiraled after that? Come on, Dad. I already know you kept in touch with her…I know about the flowers."

A small, sad smile came to William's face. "She always loved beautiful things."

"Yeah? Well, you should have seen our beautiful house back then, Dad. I certainly couldn't keep it up. I had to go to school, or the social workers would come. And Mom spent full weeks in bed. She sure wasn't doing any housekeeping. There was nothing beautiful about that."

William's smile was replaced with a look of regret. "I called her, at the beginning. I waited for you to be in school. I knew that, if we spoke, you and I, it would only make the separation harder. After a while, I could tell she was struggling more. Then there were a few times she didn't recognize my voice, and it frightened her. So I stopped calling."

Reid was having trouble keeping his calm. The similarity between interviewing an unsub and speaking with his father went only so far. It definitely didn't extend into the memory of those times of extreme turmoil in the lives of the abandoned mother and son. He drew a deep breath to squelch his rising emotion.

"You stopped calling. You knew she was getting sicker, and you knew we were alone, and you decided to stop calling." He'd squelched a little bit of the anger, but none of the sarcasm.

"My calling was making her worse."

"Well, then, why didn't you call social services? Or, better yet, why didn't you come back and take care of us?" Reid hadn't squelched the exasperation, either.

"I _did_ call social services, Spencer. Multiple times. Repeatedly. But it seemed like someone always managed to make it look like the two of you were coping."

Reid was stunned. That 'someone' had been him. More terrified of the unknown than the known, he'd always put his genius to work making it look like his mother was functional.

"You're saying _I_ kept you from getting us help? But all social services would have done would have been to put me in foster care. They might not even have gotten Mom any help at all. Are you saying you'd rather I was in foster care than to take care of me yourself?"

William didn't answer him directly. "Many children thrive in foster care, Spencer. I've worked with quite a few of them over the years."

Reid fell forward in his chair, his hands on either side of his head, as though trying to contain all of the information within. His father had left him to _help_ him. He'd thought Reid would be better off in foster care. He'd _worked_ with kids in foster care. _What, was he going to let me go into foster care and then become my 'Big Brother'?_

All he could do was to shake his head. "I don't understand."

"That's because you're trying to make sense of it."

_Well, of course….._ "What do you mean?"

"It doesn't make sense, Spencer. Even I know that. At the time, to me, it did. Mostly because I was acting out of fear...out of panic, really. I knew what had happened to Danny….or thought I did, anyway….and then, as you grew older, I could see the same traits in you. I thought you'd be better off without me. At the time, I thought your mother might get better. Maybe not all the way, but we had hope about her treatments. I thought you'd be better off with her. Then, when I saw her deteriorating…I was still afraid of not being enough for you. I prayed you would find a nice, nurturing home."

"Which I didn't."

"No, you didn't. But you found your way, anyway. I know that doesn't make it right. I can only tell you what I did, and thought, and felt, for right or wrong. And I know it doesn't hold up against what happened. That's why I understand that you can never forgive me."

It was such a simple, matter-of-fact statement, reflecting a long-ago coming to terms. Reid heard the resignation behind it. William wasn't actually unrepentant. He simply thought his own sin was unforgivable.

His father may have been the one in the hospital bed, but Reid felt completely drained of energy. He needed to close this conversation. But he also needed to know one more thing.

"What about Bennington?"

"What about it?"

"Did you go to see her there?"

William shook his head. "Only the one time. But I spoke with Dr. Norman regularly. He thought seeing me would confuse her too much. That she would forget we weren't together. So I sent her flowers, and it turned out that she thought we were courting…in a medieval kind of way, I guess." He gave a small chuckle of reminiscence. "It suited her. No, Spencer, the only time we saw each other was when we met with you."

Reid was silent for a moment, remembering. "Mom was clear then. She knew everything, didn't she?"

"About the status of our relationship? Yes, she remembered. We had a few tears over it, but she understood. At least, in that moment….she understood."

Reid's voice was buried deep under a sea of emotion, and he had trouble bringing it to the surface. "Did you love her, Dad? Did you love Mom?"

William made sure he had his son's eyes. "I loved your mother from the day I met her. I love her today. But I couldn't take care of her. Nor you. I'm sorry you were saddled with me for a father, Spencer. I wanted so much more for you. You deserved so much more."

Reid had come to the hospital today not at all committed to having this conversation with his father. It had simply happened, seemingly of its own volition. And, while it felt unfinished, it needed to end. Both of them were exhausted…physically, emotionally, spiritually. Reid rose and pushed back his chair.

"I should go and let you rest."

William gave a weary nod, but stopped his son just at the threshold. His words brought them back to the beginning of the conversation.

"For the record….no, I didn't google JJ. She sent me a wedding picture, and then she sent a couple of Christmas cards with family photos. You have a beautiful family, Spencer."

"Thanks." His son responded reflexively.

William seemed to hesitate, undecided. Then went for it. "If you could find it in your heart one day…well…..I would be grateful if I could meet them."

* * *

She always _could_ sense when he was near. JJ raised her eyes from the case report she'd been pretending to work on and was already watching the doorway when her husband came through it. One glance told her all she needed to know.

"That bad?" She was already out of her seat and approaching him, arms wide.

Instead of accepting her embrace, he took her face in his hands and kissed her. She recognized it as his way of telling her he needed space.

"I need to walk." He might do some of his best intellectual thinking in front of a white board, but he did his best emotional untangling on his feet.

JJ studied him. "You want company?"

He looked at her for a moment. There would never come a time, he thought, when he _didn't_ want her company. But he wasn't sure _he_ was fit company at the moment. And then he realized how much that thought was like his father's explanation. Which decided it for him.

"Only if it's yours."


	28. Chapter 28

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 28**

Hands in his pockets, Reid set off with a full head of steam, thought and emotion intermingling into a miasma of energy that needed expending. They'd gone six long blocks before he even thought to shorten his stride enough for her to keep up.

"Sorry."

"It's okay," she panted, "I never got my run in this morning." She gave him another half block before asking. "Do you want to talk about it?"

He raised his eyes to the sky, looking for…..something. _I don't even know what I need. Clarity? Direction? Wisdom? Grace?_

"I don't even know how to talk about it. I….it didn't make any sense. He gave me this big explanation, and it just didn't hold together. But then, he acted like that was okay, like he didn't actually expect it to. So…why?"

JJ thought back to her conversation with William yesterday afternoon. With the arrival of their family, she'd never had a chance to tell Spence about it. 

_But, then, that really was William's story to tell, wasn't it?_

"You mean about your Uncle Daniel? About how he reacted to your uncle's death?" The suicide-that-wasn't.

Reid stopped abruptly, causing her to turn and face him. "You knew about that?"

"He told me yesterday afternoon, Spence. I just didn't have a chance to talk to you, remember?"

Because he'd gone to walk it off yesterday as well. They hadn't been alone since.

Reid started walking again, this time offering JJ the crook of his arm. Both of them needed the contact.

"What did you think?" Maybe the prayed-for wisdom would come from his wife, as it so often did.

Exercising that wisdom, JJ parried him. "Why don't you tell me what you thought, first?"

"That's the thing. I don't know what to think. Or feel, or anything else. I mean, why tell me this crazy story if he didn't care if I believed it?"

JJ was ready for that one. "Seems like that actually lends credence to it, doesn't it? If there's no other reason to tell the story, it must be because it's the truth."

She'd articulated an idea that had already presented itself to Reid. But he wasn't sure he was ready to go along with it.

"I know, that's the only thing that makes sense. So, okay, maybe I accept that he's being honest about his thought process at the time. But…how could he have thought that? My mother was supposed to be the crazy one, not him."

"He was grieving, Spence. Grief can do pretty strange things to a person." They'd seen it often enough in their work.

"But he didn't leave us until a few years _after_ my uncle's death."

"There's a timetable for grief?"

Reid strode another half block in silence before observing, "You sound like you're defending him."

The last thing she wanted was an argument about his father. The subject had been the only really tender one between them for the duration of their marriage. 

_Especially after I took it upon myself to contact William. But I'd thought we might lose you!_

"I'm not defending him, Spence. I'm just listening….to both of you. And, for now, anyway, I'm reserving judgment."

He chewed on that for a moment before replying. "Do you think I should, too? Reserve judgment?" Not sounding at all like he thought it was a possibility.

JJ bit her lip, debating her answer. "I guess I understand that you can't reserve judgment, Spence. I mean, this is your father, and this is your life we're talking about. His role in it. What it meant for you, and your mom. I'm just saying that, if you simply accept the truth of what he told you, you might make one judgment. But if you only accept parts of it, and reject others…..you'll make another judgment."

"So, you're saying that I should just take it all in…..and then decide."

"I think I'm saying that maybe you should take it all in….and then _react_. I don't know that you can do this intellectually, Spence." Removing his most reliable weapon, and tool.

They walked another block in silence before Reid remarked, "You're not helping at all, you know."

She heard the tease in it, and laughed. Then she extracted her arm from his and put it around his waist. He put his arm around her shoulder and drew her closer to him.

"Ah….. _now_ you're helping."

* * *

They looped a final block and started making their way back toward the hospital. As usually happened, their conversation moved to their children.

"I hope they're behaving. Henry can still get a little wired in a new environment," observed his mother.

"I think he realizes something is up. Did you notice he didn't ask a single question at breakfast?" It was remarkable behavior for the perpetually curious Henry.

"I know. I almost took his temperature. Mom said he didn't have that much to say on the plane, either."

"Henry and his empathy," mused Reid, who'd so often been the recipient of it. "He's a great kid, isn't he? I mean, not just because he's ours…"

She was always touched when Reid ignored the biological divide between himself and his son. "Yes, he's great. He's always been my little heart. And now we have another _littler_ heart…"

"And they both have mine. As does their mother."

They were walking hand-in-hand now, and squeezed their love for one another.

"I know someone might think I was crazy for saying this, Spence, considering all we've been through. But, sometimes, I feel like we're the most blessed people on the earth."

He pulled her closer so he could kiss the top of her head. "We are." It brought a thought back to him, one he'd been trying to ignore. "He wants to meet them."

JJ realized they were back to the subject of William again. "He said that?"

"He said he would understand if I didn't want it, but…..he said he would be grateful."

She waited a few seconds before probing. "What do you think about it?"

"My gut reaction was 'Hell, no!' I mean, look what having him in _my_ life did to _me_." He seemed to cut himself off abruptly, prompting JJ to take her eyes from the pavement before them to study his face.

"What haven't you told me?" Sure there was something.

"Did he tell you about my mother? About how it was for them? About the pregnancy?"

JJ's eyes narrowed. "He only told me about how losing your uncle had affected him, and how it was such a relief to find out he hadn't committed suicide. Why? What else _was_ there?"

So he told her about his parents' dilemma when they realized she was ill, and how it heightened when they realized she was pregnant. He told her about William's fear of continuing the pregnancy, and Diana's insistence. And he told her about his father keeping distant tabs on the family. The calls to social services, and how they'd gone unrewarded because of a young boy's genius. The continued, if distant, relationship with Diana, extending into her final years.

"Whoa…that was some conversation you guys had."

"Yeah, that's us. The Reid men, world class communicators."

She snorted. "Well, if nothing else, you two made up for lost time." She dropped the teasing tone to add, "So you've been carrying around a lot more than the story of your Uncle Daniel this afternoon."

Quietly, reflectively, "Yes."

"And?"

He heaved a great sigh. "And I don't know. I mean, the fact that he kept up with my mother all that time has to mean something, doesn't it? And, even if he was anxious about her being pregnant with me, he supported her. And he _was_ a father to me when I was young. I _do_ remember that. It was why I couldn't make sense of his leaving."

"But?" She'd heard the unspoken word in his tone.

"But it brings me right back to where we started. How, even if I accept his whole explanation as true, it doesn't hold together. And he even acknowledged it."

"He did?"

"He said I was struggling because I was trying to make sense of it, when it didn't make sense. That all he could tell me was how he'd felt. He said he couldn't even ask for my forgiveness, because he didn't think it was forgivable."

JJ stopped them now. "Really?"

It was new information for her, and seemed to go to the heart of everything. It explained something she'd always wondered about. The reason she was willing to reach out to William, but only to keep him at arm's length. He'd never expressed remorse to either of them, not in his letters nor his cards. But now she understood why. He'd never apologized, because he didn't think it was possible to be forgiven.

JJ pondered all that Reid was dealing with. For so many years, her husband had been able to leave the questions unasked and the answers unsought. But present circumstance had made that impossible. Like it or not, he was in the middle of it now. It wasn't going away unresolved. She drew him into the doorway of an apartment building and put her arms around his waist.

"What are you thinking, my love?" She whispered into his shoulder.

He buried his face in her neck and breathed deeply of her.

"I'm thinking that all I want to do right now…..is what I'm doing right now. He's right. I can't make sense of it. All I can do is to decide to accept it…accept _him_ ….or not. It's just the one decision."

She started to pull away, so she could make her point, but he wasn't ready to let her go. So she spoke it into his collar. "You don't have to accept him, Spence. You don't even have to reject him. We can just go home, if that's what you want."

* * *

A text from Hotch diverted them to the Las Vegas FBI office. After a quick call to the hospital to make sure William was stable, they took a cab to meet up with their colleagues.

"Hey, Pretty Boy, how's your dad?"

"Stable. He'll probably be discharged tomorrow." No mention of this morning's exchange with William, and no need for his colleagues to know about it.

"Hey, that's great, Reid. I'm so glad he's going to be okay." Emily had been worried about William, and even more worried about his son.

As he took his seat, Rossi offered a quick pat on the back in his own gesture of support. Reid gave him an appreciative smile as Hotch started the meeting. He directed his first words to Reid and JJ, who were the only team members who remained unaware.

"We have two of three generations of Albrechts in custody. Professor Albrecht should be receiving a visit from our San Francisco branch," he looked briefly at his watch, "right about now."

"So you have the grandson and the great-grandson?" asked JJ, for clarification.

Emily nodded. "The state police detained them on the highway until Morgan and I arrived."

"Did they come willingly?" Reid was wondering if they would be able to interrogate the family, or if they would have to negotiate a wall of lawyers first.

"Not exactly," voiced Morgan. "They've already demanded counsel. Or, I should say, the grandson has. If I had to guess, I'd say the great-grandson is our best bet."

"Yeah, he started to get chatty on the ride in, but his father shut him up," added Emily. "I _knew_ we should have taken them in separate vehicles."

Hotch broke into the conversation. "Reid, do you think your father might be able to identify them? Has he regained enough of his memory?"

_And then some_ , thought Reid, remembering all the ground they'd covered today. Aloud, he replied, "I think he can probably tell us who he went to meet with, but I don't think he knows what happened after that."

"All right. Rossi, can you put together a photographic lineup and show it to William? Prentiss, you and I will handle the interrogations after our guests meet with counsel."

Hotch knew he couldn't have either Reid or JJ involved in this aspect of the case.

* * *

Three hours and a quickly downed fast food supper later, the team prepared for the interrogations. William had identified Claus Albrecht as the man he'd gone to the science building to meet with. Both grandson and great-grandson had met with their individual counselors. Now it was time for Hotch and Prentiss to see what they could get from the men.

Acknowledging Morgan's intuition about the great-grandson, they decided to get the grandson out of the way first. The others watched through a one-way mirror as the BAU agents took their seats.

"Mr. Albrecht….may we call you Karl?" began Emily.

"You may not."

She took that in without reacting. "All right, Mr. Albrecht, we have some questions for you about a meeting that took place between your father and another man."

"Was I at this presumed meeting?"

Emily recognized the feigned aristocracy from the many ambassadorial functions she'd attended with her mother. All of the watching BAU agents recognized the hostility of his tone.

"We don't know, Mr. Albrecht. That's why we're questioning you." Hotch countered with his own imperious tone. "Now, do you recall being present at the UNLV Science Building on the evening before the lab's dedication? It would have been the night of the University President's reception."

They already knew they could get independent corroboration of his attendance.

Albrecht threw a sideways look at his counsel, who issued a brief nod. "Yes, I was present."

"Were you with your father prior to the reception?" Hotch began bringing his old prosecutorial skills to the exchange.

"Not the entire time but, yes, I was."

Emily asked, "Were you with him when a man named William Reid met with him?"

"There was no one with him when I was."

She tried a different tack. "Were you aware that he was meeting with someone? Or had met with someone?" She'd hurriedly added the latter question when she thought she saw just the slightest change in the man's expression.

The attorney must have seen it too, because he tried to get Albrecht's attention. But whether it was ego, or just plain innocence, Karl Albrecht kept his gaze steady on Emily's.

"I never saw him with anyone."

The two BAU agents bumped shoes under the table, adequate communication that they'd just been told a lie. Hotch decided to try a different approach.

"Were you aware of a dispute about the patent rights for the sonic lens? You know, the discovery that earned your family a few million dollars?"

"Make that a few billion, Agent." Karl Albrecht literally couldn't keep his mouth shut, much to the consternation of his attorney.

"All right, a few billion. I should think the logarithmic increase in the family's earnings might be a potent motivator to keep the patent under your grandfather's name." Hotch pointed out the obvious.

Karl was agitated. "It was my grandfather's discovery. He holds the patent. No one else has a right to claim it!"

Emily jumped on it. "Are you saying that someone else _did_ try to claim it? Who was that, exactly?"

But it was too late. Seeing that his client was in danger of making an unretractable statement to the FBI, Albrecht's attorney shut down the interrogation.

Wisely or unwisely, the family had decided to go with separate attorneys for each of the men. When he saw Karl's lawyer leaning toward obstructing the interview, Hotch was grateful that they'd be speaking to the great-grandson under different counsel. He and Emily waited patiently as the first pair of men were escorted from the room, and replaced by the second.

She started in much as she had with the first interview. "Mr. Albrecht…..may I call you Kristian?"

The younger man was far less formal, and far less imperious, than his father. "Of course."

"Great, thanks. Let's start with some basics. How old are you, Kristian?"

"Twenty-six."

"Twenty-six. And what do you do for a living."

"I'm a student, in my second year of medical school. I'm planning to be a surgeon, like my grandfather."

"Ah, I didn't know. He was a surgeon, then?"

"Yes, he was a urologist."

Hotch caught the implication of it. "Did he use the sonic lens in his work, then?"

Kristian smiled. "Yeah. My great-grandfather invented it, and his son put it to use."

Emily followed up with, "It was quite the invention, wasn't it? Didn't it kind of create your family fortune?"

Kristian nodded. "It's putting me through medical school."

Hotch felt it was time for the small talk to end. "Do you know why you're here, Kristian? Do you know why we're talking to you and your father?"

"Not really." It was the first time their subject had tried to mislead them, and he hadn't done it very skillfully. He'd failed eye contact, and there was a bloom of red rising from his neck to his ears.

Emily decided on a sympathetic approach. "Kristian…..I think you _do_ know what this is about. And I think you really want to tell us." She chanced a quick glance at Albrecht's attorney, who'd twitched, just a little bit.

"Kristian?" Emily asked him again.

The young man asked for a moment to consult with counsel and was granted it. The two men whispered back and forth for a full minute before turning back to the interview table. Albrecht's attorney spoke first.

"On my advice, my client is asking for an assurance of immunity before he speaks any further."

Emily's eyes went to Hotch, who seemed deep in thought. He'd formed his own impressions of both the younger and the older Albrechts, and needed to weigh the possibilities. Having come to a conclusion, he cleared his throat.

"Only the state attorney can, ultimately, grant immunity. But I am willing to give my recommendation for it."

Kristian turned once again to his lawyer, who seemed to shrug a message of 'it's up to you'.

"All right. If you're sincere about your recommendation."

Hotch assured him, "The only thing any of us wants is justice. If granting you immunity will lead to justice for our victim….then you'll have my recommendation of immunity. You have my word on that."

Kristian nodded, seemingly relieved. Apparently he'd been holding information that troubled him greatly.

"All right. Then, yes, in answer to your question, I think I know why we're here. You found that man, didn't you?"

"Man?" Emily feigned ignorance.

"The man in the desert. He was right near the visitor's station. I was sure someone would find him."

This was unexpected. They'd thought the young man simply had knowledge of what had happened, but this sounded like he might have actually participated in it.

Watching through the one-way, Reid stiffened. Kristian Albrecht had clearly had something to do with his father's nearly dying in the desert. Standing next to him, JJ rubbed his arm in support.

Inside the room, Hotch probed. "Are you saying _you_ put the victim there?"

"I _moved_ him there. He was too far out, and I didn't think anyone would find him."

Emily represented the confusion rising in all of them now. "I don't understand. Are you saying someone _else_ assaulted him? Someone _else_ left him in the desert?"

"He…..I…oh, God." Kristian's head fell into his hands. When he raised it again, there was a plea in his eyes.

"I don't suppose I can ask for immunity for someone else…..can I?"

Emily began to see where they were going. "Sorry, no."

Hotch was less sympathetic. "And your own offer will be off the table if you withhold anything from us at this point."

Kristian nodded in resignation. "All right. Just tell me….is the man all right? He didn't die, did he?"

He seemed so distressed at the thought of William's possible death that they all began to believe Albrecht had been sincere in his attempt to save William by moving him. Hotch assured him that the victim would survive.

"Oh, thank God. Thank God."

Gently, Emily reached across the table and touch Kristian's hand. "You need to tell us now."

The young man nodded. "I will. It's just…he's my _father_ , you know?"

"William Reid is someone's father as well." Hotch was using his quiet voice. "Tell us about your father…..and William Reid."

From there, things unraveled quickly. Kristian's story implicated his father, whose resistance succumbed to further questioning. Before long, the older Albrecht was talking, now seeming to want to reduce the implications of his son's guilt.

They learned that William had, indeed, gone to see Claus Albrecht, Danny's former professor and mentor. What had started out as a simple inquiry about Daniel's discovery and Albrecht's using it for his own profit had quickly escalated to an accusation, all overheard by Karl Albrecht.

When William indicated to the professor that he had proof of Daniel's work, Claus had conceded, but said "What good will it do? It won't bring your brother back. I'm an old man, they won't waste government money on prosecuting me."

William had fired back, angry. "It was my brother's discovery. I want it known that he made this contribution to the world. I don't want him remembered only for taking his own life. I want my son to know, and be proud."

Those in the corridor reacted to hearing William's words recounted, and Reid felt both JJ's and Morgan's hands on his shoulders. Inside the room, the story continued.

"It wasn't until I heard them talking that I realized the discovery had never been my grandfather's," said Karl Albrecht. "That's when I realized that all of our family money had come from a lie. That it really didn't belong to us."

"Why didn't you just confront your grandfather?" asked Hotch.

Albrecht shook his head. "I have too much debt. Or, I would have, if the money had been gone. I've got an ex-wife and a sizable settlement from that marriage. Not to mention three homes, cars, a yacht. We've lived quite a nice lifestyle on my grandfather's money."

"Except that it wasn't really his money, was it?" observed a very wry Emily Prentiss.

"But I was the only one who knew that, besides my grandfather. Well, and Mr. Reid."

Hotch provided his anticipated synopsis of the rest of the story. "So you thought you needed to preserve the family fortune by silencing the only one who could speak out about it?"

"I just…..I don't know what came over me. Before I'd even thought about it, I had a paperweight in my hand, and I came into the room….he was still with his back to me, arguing with my grandfather…..and I hit him with it."

That didn't sound quite right to Reid, who pressed the intercom to convey his message. "Ask him if he used anything else."

When asked, Albrecht admitted, "I dragged him to my car, but he started to come around a bit, so I grabbed one of the golf clubs from the trunk and hit him a few more times." Thus explaining the cylindrical-shaped injury to William's skull.

Karl Albrecht had left an unconscious William Reid in his trunk throughout the laboratory dedication ceremony and into the following day. That's when his son, Kristian, had heard a thumping sound coming from the trunk of the car, and investigated. Kristian had been shocked when he'd opened the hood of the trunk, and more shocked still when he'd learned his father had been responsible.

He'd begged his father to let him get help, said he could pretend to know nothing about how the man had come to be in the trunk of their car. It was a rental, after all. But Karl had been adamant. The family couldn't afford to lose its fortune, and his grandfather couldn't risk losing his good name so late in life. Karl had insisted on taking William to the desert.

"They've been finding bodies in the desert for weeks now, Kristian. No one has to know."

"But, Dad, _I_ know! And so do you!"

"My son, there is so much you _don't_ know. Don't be such an innocent. I'll take care of this."

The senior Albrecht had driven William into the desert and left him there. Kristian had had the presence of mind to follow from a distance. He'd known only the general vicinity of where William had been dumped, so had taken an extra day to locate him, and another to move him.

"I thought he might still be saved. I prayed for it."

"Well, it looks like your prayers were answered, Kristian." Emily had lost much sympathy for the young man who'd colluded in the crime, yet she understood his dilemma.

"Not all of them."

"What do you mean?"

"Not all of my prayers were answered. Mr. Reid was saved. But my dad is lost."

* * *

It was another day before the Albrecht patriarch, located in San Francisco, was convinced to confess to his own crime. He'd been vital to the success of the Manhattan Project, yet had gone completely unrewarded for his government work. He'd felt entitled to financial compensation, and seen an opportunity when his graduate student had told him of his discovery of the use of sound waves to effect small, controlled explosions. Before Daniel Reid had had a chance to formally submit his thesis on the topic, Claus Albrecht had invited him to go hiking in the desert, and only Albrecht had emerged.

Although Claus Albrecht admitted all of this during questioning, he'd refused to acknowledge his role in Daniel's death. That changed when he was confronted with the evidence indicating the physical impossibility of Daniel having fired the shot that ended his life. After almost thirty years, Daniel Reid's name was cleared. He'd been a victim, not a suicide. His death would be avenged.

"Does it bring you any relief, Spencer?" Dave Rossi knew that the concept of 'closure' was actually pretty obscure for the families of most victims. But, sometimes, they expressed a sense of relief from having some of the unknown become known.

"Not me, so much. But it might help my dad. He always felt responsible for his brother."

"Well, then, I'm glad you'll be able to give him some good news."

"Yeah…right."

Rossi picked up on it. "Things are still difficult between you, I take it?"

"I don't think they'll ever be anything but, Rossi."

"There's a thing about fathers and sons, Spencer. Look at the Albrechts. Three generations of them. The young kid probably wasn't so bad, until he felt like he had to protect his dad. He couldn't even consider doing anything else, for right or for wrong."

"That's because he knew his dad all along."

"Did he?"

"You mean because he was so shocked at what his father did? Yeah, I guess you're right. Maybe we never really know one another. Still, I don't get why he felt like he had to support him."

"Maybe it just took him a while to figure out what 'supporting him' really needed to look like. And that it didn't look like 'covering up'. In the end, young Albrecht gave his father to us. His great-grandfather, too."

"Because it was the right thing to do."

"Yes, because it was the right thing to do. He figured it out, Spencer. You will, too."


	29. Chapter 29

**A Voice Cries Out**

**Chapter 29**

"And then we saw this man and this lady, and they swinged on swings all the way up, prac'lly in the sky!"

"In the sky?!" JJ feigned astonishment.

"Yeah! And they didn't fall or anything! Can we get swings like that, Mom?"

"Henry…..what do you think?"

"I think I'm gonna ask Dad!"

JJ and her parents laughed at the six year old with dreams of triangulation. Sandy offered a little more information about their day at Circus Circus.

"Your dad took him to the midway to play games for a couple of hours while little Miss Rosie and I found a nice shady place outside for her to nap. Poor little thing was a bit stressed out by the clowns."

Reid completed his phone call and joined them in time to hear mention of clowns. He plucked his daughter from her grandmother's lap and lifted her up to his shoulder.

"Never mind, Rosie. It's perfectly understandable. Who ever thought it would be a great idea to paint grotesque features on a person's face, give them giant feet and hands, and have them chase children?"

JJ's brows went up. "Spence! All this time we've been together, and I'm just finding out you're afraid of clowns!"

He sniffed. "I didn't say I was afraid of them. I'm just sympathizing with my daughter."

"Right." Both women's voices shared the same tone of disbelief.

Henry wasn't dissuaded from his original plan. "Daddy, when we get home, can we get some swings?"

Reid's mouth started to shape the word 'sure', but he stopped when he caught something in his peripheral vision. It was JJ, her hand swinging back and forth over her head, triggering a response from a good number of his 187 IQ points.

"Er….we'll talk about it when we get home, okay, Buddy?"

Henry hadn't heard the word 'no', so he was satisfied. "Okay, Daddy!"

Charles drew near to Reid while Henry continued telling his mother about his many adventures with the rides and games at the casino.

"How did it go today?"

Reid knew the Jareaus had been alerted that the men who'd assaulted William had been apprehended and confessed, so he realized Charles was referring to William's status. And to the status of the father/son relationship.

Reid gave him a sanitized version. "Physically, he's doing better. It looks like he'll be discharged tomorrow. And…..we talked. For a quite a while, actually. But I'm not sure we got anywhere."

Charles knew better. "If you were still on speaking terms at the end of the conversation, you got somewhere. This is a journey that will be made with baby steps, I'm afraid, Spencer."

Reid considered that a moment while he made faces at the young lady in his arms. "I guess maybe I should get some advice from Rosie, then. Right, Miss Rosie? You're a more recent expert in baby steps than I am."

She laughed at the face her father made and grabbed at his nose.

"Hey! Not so hard! I'm not a clown, you know!" Making her giggle all the more.

"Daddy, clown!"

Reid smiled at her and pulled her head down to his shoulder. He breathed in the soft baby scent of his daughter as he whispered, "I'll be your clown any day, my sweet little girl."

* * *

They had dinner together with the team, each of the godparents having a chance to bond with their charges over the kids' menu mac and cheese. Morgan went along indulgently as Garcia, via his cell, asked Henry to recount his entire day for them.

Hotch stifled a pang of longing as he watched Rossi and Emily playing with Rosie. He missed Jack every day he was away from him. But he especially missed the infant and toddler his son had been. _I missed it even when it was happening. And now I'd give everything to turn back the clock to that time. For a host of reasons._

The rest of the team would be traveling home tomorrow, but the Reids would stay behind with the Jareaus. Although he had no plans to stay with William, Reid wanted to be sure his father was settled in. Then both he and JJ would do their best to use the next few days making their children feel like this had been a planned family vacation. And there was one more issue Reid had yet to resolve.

_I need to decide if I'm still a son, and he's still a father._

As they bid each other goodnight and farewell, the rest of the team went for a rare night on the town, while Charles and Sandy retired to their rooms. Both claimed exhaustion from a full day at the casinos with the little ones. Reid helped JJ get the kids to their room, but then approached his wife apologetically.

"JJ…..would it be all right…..I just….I need…."

"I've got them, Spence. Do what you need to do." She knew him too well. If he hadn't asked, she would have suggested it.

"It's just…I just need to think." No matter that she was willing to be understanding, no questions asked. He wanted her to know.

"I know you do. And I mean it….I've got this. We'll do baths and find something on TV. Besides, they're so pooped, I'll bet they're out before the first commercial."

He hugged her as he kissed the back of her neck. "I seriously don't know how I lived my life without you."

She held him to her as she smiled up at him. "You're stuck with me, Dr. Reid."

"Uh-uh. I'm _blessed_ with you. I won't be long, I promise."

She drew his face to her and kissed him on the lips. "Take whatever time you need. I'm not going anywhere. But, if I've fallen asleep, wake me up when you get back, okay?"

_I need to know if you're all right. And I need to know what you've decided._

She didn't have to say it aloud. Her message was clear.

"I will."

* * *

_Six billion years. Six billion years ago, there existed a star. It emitted its energy in the form of photons and light waves. And they've traveled six billion years through space and time, just to impact on my retina. Six billion years. Times…how many stars are there? We don't even know….too many to count. Six billion years. On the scale of the universe, I'm not even a speck. So why does this seem like such a huge thing?_

He'd driven only as far as it took to let the city lights fade. Reid stood leaning against a boulder that dwarfed him in size, adding to his sense of unworthiness. His logical mind battled with his spiritual one. All he had to do was to decide if Henry and Rosie should meet William. Part of him knew that he could always just postpone the decision, begging off for reasons of the children's tender ages and William's current disability. But he knew it would only be that…a postponement.

_I still need to decide. But I can't. I can't forget that I once let myself love him, only to be rejected. All right, maybe he didn't actually reject me. Maybe he meant what he said, and he just couldn't think clearly. For twenty years. Right? That can't be right, can it? What if I let the kids get to know him, and he hurts them, too? You have to admit, it's a possibility. Maybe he'll find them to be 'too much'. Maybe he'll let them get attached, and start to rely on him…and then he'll decide he's better off living his life without them. What then?_

The little observer in the back of Reid's mind noted the relationship he'd developed…the one with the Entity he could never quite be sure existed. The one that allowed him to protest, to argue, even to whine…..all with the sense of assurance that there would still be a relationship. _How do You do that?_

Internally, Reid argued both sides of the issue.

_I know, it will be different for them. They'll have JJ, and they'll have me. We won't let him hurt them. So, maybe that's a non-issue. Maybe I need to focus on what they'll gain._

He paused a moment, trying without success to drown a thought that wanted to surface.

_All right, all right. I should think about what he might gain as well._

Reid closed his eyes so he could focus. The beauty of the heavenly display was trying desperately to distract him from his decision. But it didn't help. Having blacked out the visual grandeur, his mind refused to present anything to him except the final words shared by his father-in-law this morning.

" _That it was all shades of gray. That a good man could fail. That evil is insidious. That none of us can accomplish anything on our own. I learned to be humble. I learned to seek out the strength in my wife, even when she felt at her weakest. I leaned on her…..and she leaned back on me….and we created a core that was firm enough to hold us together. But it would never have happened if I hadn't learned humility."_

_Charles leaned on Sandy, just like I lean on JJ. What if Dad tried to lean on Mom….and she bent? Her illness wouldn't let her hold them both together. If anything, it probably became something else leaning back on him._

He spent a long time on that, finally reaching a conclusion.

_He couldn't stand up to all of it. Not without a partner. He didn't have it in him. But it didn't make him less of a man. Right? It only made him ordinary. He was expected to be extraordinary…..definitely by me….but he only had 'ordinary' in him. Can I hold that against him? Or should I hold it against You?_

Years ago, if he could even have entertained the thought of himself having this conversation, Reid might have expected resentment to rise at this point. Blaming. Finding fault. But it wasn't. He was asking a sincere question, not really expecting an answer. And yet….

_So, I can't hold it against him that he wasn't given whatever extraordinary gifts he needed to get through everything that was put before him. That's what You're telling me, right? But….what about the rest of us? Aren't we all put in situations without the strengths to get through them?_

Reid's lightning quick mind was a phenomenon even when he shared his thoughts aloud. When they were held internally, it was an even faster process. And yet, even as he'd begun the thought, the answer had come to him.

_I was, wasn't I? With Tobias Hankel. I was put into a situation that I couldn't handle. And I didn't handle it. I let it handle me._

Even almost a decade later, he was ashamed about his failure. And amazed by having overcome it.

_But it didn't defeat me. Is that what You're saying? That I lost the battle, but not the war? Are You saying the same thing about my dad? Are You saying he's not the same? That he won't fail again?_

As if in confirmation, Reid's mind created an image of Diana receiving flowers. Of Diana smiling. Of his parents uniting to explain to their son about his misconceptions. His mind presented him an image of William's hand on Diana's shoulder, ushering her into the police interrogation room, and Diana's quick smile of thanks. Followed by an image of..…nothing. William had been once again absent from his life after that all-too-brief interlude.

_So, what, exactly, is the message here? That he might fail again? That's he's still human? As am I, I know. But I have too much to live for now. That's pretty good incentive not to screw it up again. I've been given too much. It would be ungrateful._

The final thoughts stuck with Reid. He _had_ been given so much. His life _had_ changed, in so many unexpected and wonderful ways. It had been the topic of many a backyard conversation with the heavens. And then, finally, it struck him.

_My life changed because of JJ. And Henry, and then Rosie. And Charles, and Sandy. It's so full I almost don't recognize it sometimes. And my dad's life can change, can't it? It can be bigger, and fuller. But only if I share mine with him. It always happens through other people, doesn't it?_

Reid tried to quiet his mind, to empty it of all thought. He focused his gaze on the Milky Way and tried to let himself become lost within it. It was a frequent, often futile, exercise for the genius. But, even in the times when he couldn't quite silence his thoughts, the process always opened something within. It did so this time, as well. He stayed another twenty minutes, then turned and got back into his vehicle. It was time to return to the other brightness in his life.

* * *

He slid his key card back out and turned the door handle, entering the room as quietly as possible. Reid took a few steps and then stopped, smiling at the sight of the three people he loved most in the world all asleep in his bed.

_I'm still not sure I agree with You, but….okay. This is pretty convincing._

As though by instinct, JJ's eyes began to flicker open. "Hey…" she whispered.

"Hey. Don't wake up. I'll join you in a minute."

She yawned. "No…I'm awake. Seriously."

"Seriously, you were just out cold when I came in here."

Busted. JJ shrugged. "Okay, so I was asleep. But I want to know about you. Are you okay?"

Reid was already pulling off his shirt and tie. "I'm okay. We can talk in the morning."

JJ precluded that idea by slipping out of the bed. Reid noticed she was wearing an oversized Circus Circus T shirt.

"Where did you get that?"

"From the kids. They got you one, too."

He whisper-snorted. "Great, matching PJs."

"Shh! Henry was all excited about it!"

He chuckled. "Then I am, too."

She'd made her way over to him, and managed to wrangle her way into his arms. "So…..did you come up with anything?"

He gave her a wry smile. "Father O'Neill and I are going to have a long talk about this one. But… if you're okay with it….I think I'd like to introduce him to the kids."

Despite the traumas of her own childhood, JJ had been blessed with a strong parental figure, who'd helped her stay on course. She was much less apprehensive about the meeting than her husband was.

"I'm fine with it. But…..just so you know, Spence….I wouldn't have pushed. If it was something you didn't want…..you would never have heard about it again."

She'd tried to push him once before, and he hadn't been ready. Her statement was an apology as much as an assurance.

He bent down and kissed her. "I know that. And…..thank you. But it's okay. I think we have to try. And, if he's not the guy he professes to be now…well, we'll end it. And we'll make sure it doesn't hurt them."

JJ leaned up and deepened the kiss. "I don't think he'll fail us, Spence. But I'm with you if he does. We're a team now…..all of us."

Reid started to melt into her mouth before he remembered that the kids were in their bed.

"Do you think your parents would mind…."

She giggled as she pushed him away. "Hold that thought, Spencer Reid. Patience reaps its own reward."

* * *

The busyness of the day before showed itself in how late the kids slept in. Both Reid and JJ were up and dressed before either of the young ones stirred.

Reid purposely bounced the bed as he sat down next to Henry, who was stretching out both arms as he yawned.

"Well, finally! I thought I was going to have to watch cartoons all by myself!"

Henry gave a weary smile. "Grown ups don't like cartoons, Daddy."

"Are you kidding me? Since when? Some of the world's best contraptions are in cartoons."

Henry slowly propped himself up in the bed and looked around. "Rosie's still asleep."

JJ emerged from the bathroom with a cup of coffee. "Why don't you see if you can wake her up?"

Henry was up to the challenge. Mustering a full chest of air, he bent to his sister's ear and yelled, "ROSIE, GET UP!"

The toddler reacted by shifting her bum into the air and burying her head into her pillow. So her obliging big brother tried again, this time shaking her as he bellowed, "ROSIE, GET UP!"

A soft moan emerged from the lump in the middle of the bed before she rolled over onto her back and started to softly snore again. The other three Reids looked at one another and laughed.

JJ reached for her daughter. "I'll get her dressed. She'll wake up at breakfast."

The thought of breakfast woke Henry all the way up. "Mom, do they have chocolate chip pancakes here?"

* * *

They were off to a much later start than expected, prompting Reid to call ahead to the hospital. JJ listened in as she washed the syrup from Rosie's face.

"Really? Who? …..Oh, okay, then. Sure, thanks. And, please, thank all the doctors and nurses for us. They did a great job."

From that, JJ surmised that Reid didn't plan to be at the hospital today. "What is it? Is he all right?"

Reid was slow to respond, clearly still absorbing information. "He's discharged already. Someone came to pick him up."

"Really? Who?" JJ realized she was echoing her husband's words of a moment ago.

"Someone he works with. Dorothy Ricks."

JJ had to dig back into her memory. It had only been a few days, but so much had happened that it seemed a very long time ago. Slowly, the name swam to the surface of recognition. Emily had told her about the woman.

"Oh….she's the office manager, right? Emily thought she and your father were….close. As in, maybe Dorothy had a crush on him."

"Really?" Reid couldn't imagine William in a romantic relationship. He had trouble enough picturing his parents together.

"Yep. Emily said she seemed very fond of your dad. She was very upset when he was missing."

"Really." Still having trouble taking it in. Still….."Do you think she'll help him out at home? He seemed pretty worried about it."

_Well, that would be an answer to prayer_ , thought JJ. "Maybe. So, should we skip it today? Or should we go to the condo?"

There was no question in Reid's mind. He couldn't live with indecision another day. "Let's go to the house. I don't think he'll mind."

And so, an hour and a half later, Reid rang the bell at his father's condo. The door was answered by a middle aged woman.

"Hello. Can I help you?"

Reid was holding Rosie, who had responded well to her dose of pancakes. "Hi!"

The woman couldn't help but smile. "Well, hi yourself, little one. Can I help you, sir?"

Reid watched as a look of recognition came over her face. Even without a formal introduction, the resemblance between himself and his father was beginning to strike Dorothy Ricks.

"Oh, you're his son, aren't you?"

"Yes, I'm Spencer Reid. I was hoping we could stop by and see my father. Would that be all right?"

Dorothy seemed to realize the awkwardness of their positions. She was virtually serving as a moat between William and the outside world. But there was no need for a moat in this situation.

"Oh, of course! I'm sorry, please come in."

The two women introduced themselves to one another, and JJ introduced the children. As they were speaking, the group heard a soft voice coming from the direction of the living room. "Dorothy? Is everything all right?"

Henry started off in the direction from which the voice had come, and Reid put Rosie down to do the same. The three adults followed the children into the living room. William was seated in a leather reading chair, his glasses and a book on the table beside him. Henry stopped short at the sight of the stranger in the chair, but an undeterred Rosie toddled over.

"Hi!"

There had never been a child in his condo before. William couldn't take his eyes from them, until he saw his son and JJ entering the room behind them. His eyes started the rapid blink that told the others he was fighting tears. He directed his words to his son.

"Are these….?"

Reid nodded. "Our children. Your grandchildren."

Very slowly, William's hand went to his mouth as his eyes widened. "They're….."

"This is Henry," said his mother, "and the little one wanting to climb into your lap is Rosie."

Reid realized his father was too weak to pick up his granddaughter. He moved forward and swept her up, depositing Rosie in William's lap.

"Hi!" the littlest blonde in the room repeated.

William struggled to find his voice. His eyes kept traversing the distance between his son and the little girl in his lap. Finally, he managed a word. "Hello."

"Hi!" Demonstrating that empathy ran upwards from the youngest in the family, Rosie reached out a small hand to touch William's cheek. Henry took the moment to plant himself in front of the older man who held his sister.

"I'm Henry. And this is my sister, Rosie." William realized the element of challenge in Henry's tone. The boy was being protective of his sister.

"Hello, Henry. I'm….." Looking to Reid and JJ for guidance as to what he should be called. Reid stepped into the void.

"Henry, this is your grandfather. Your _other_ grandfather. This is my father. His name is William."

Henry looked puzzled. In his more than six years he'd never had more than one grandfather. This was something entirely new. And cool.

"Hi, Grandpa!" Settling the issue of what William would be called.

"G'pa!" Echoed his sister.

William cleared his throat. "Hello, Henry. And little Rosie. I'm so happy to meet you."

Henry studied the man in the chair. "Are you sick?"

Reid answered for William. "He had a little accident, Henry. So he needs to take it easy. But he's getting better. Right, Dad?"

William nodded. "Better every day, Spencer. Especially now."

Henry was savvy enough to realize he was being told to be gentle with his grandfather. But he was also a planner.

"When you get better, can you play with me? Do you play baseball?"

William's eyes lit up. "You play baseball? Why, Henry, that's my favorite sport."

"Me too!" The youngest and oldest Reid men had found something to bond over.

"Me too!" echoed Rosie, who agreed with virtually everything her big brother said.

JJ tried to lower Henry's expectations. "Your grandfather had a pretty bad accident, Little Man. I'm afraid it will be a while before he's up to playing baseball."

William read the disappointment on his grandson's face. "Well that's true. But most of my time in baseball has been spent coaching. I don't need to be very strong to coach."

That excited Henry. "Really? Can we play now?"

Reid had been watching the entire exchange, trying to remember what, exactly, he'd been concerned about. His father and his son seemed to have already built a bond over their shared pastime, and Rosie had obviously won over William's heart just by being.

_Okay, I get it. You want me to stop overcomplicating things, because, really, it's all simple. We just have to choose it. 'Love' is a verb, isn't it? We choose it, and we do it. And then we grow into it._

Reid started to enter back into the earthly conversation, but he had one more thought to direct elsewhere. 

_If You didn't want me to overthink things, why did You give me an IQ of 187?_

* * *

He brought them all along this time. Charles and Sandy Jareau joined Reid, JJ and the kids on the evening excursion into the desert. Reid wanted to share it with all of them.

"Where are we going, Daddy? Are there rides?" Henry had begun to think of Las Vegas as one big amusement park.

"No, Henry, no rides. But there is something amazing where we're going. Wait until you see."

"Is it big? Bigger than our car? Bigger than our house?"

"Bigger than all of it, Little Man. Bigger than anything you can think of."

"Wow!"

Little Miss Echo chimed in as well. "Wow!"

The others laughed, and then Charles voiced a question.

"So, it went well?"

Reid's eyes broke contact with the road long enough to meet his father-in-law's in the mirror. "It went fine. Better than I could have hoped."

"Are you content, Spencer?"

Not 'satisfied', or 'happy'….but, 'content'. Both Charles and Reid knew that contentment belonged in the gray area.

Reid thought a long moment. "Content. That's a good word. Yes, I guess I am."

They'd arrived. Reid and JJ got out first and spread a few blankets on the ground, JJ planning to keep an eye out for any Hadrurus arizonensis. Once they were set, the others joined them on the blankets.

"All right," said Reid, "Close your eyes. It will help them adjust to the darkness. I'll tell you when it's good to open them."

He put one hand each over Henry's and Rosie's eyes, certain that neither would be able to follow his direction. When he was satisfied with their adjustment, he took his hands away and had the others open their eyes.

"Okay, you can look now. Open your eyes and look up."

His father had been right. It was the most amazing thing Henry had ever seen. The sky was filled with light, all _coming_ from the sky. He'd visited his father's backyard chapel many times, but he'd never seen anything like this. The heavens were glowing with starlight and, every so often, a meteor blazed across the void.

"Wow!" He said again. And, again, Rosie echoed, "Wow!"

"Oh, my God, Spencer. This is beautiful. Absolutely beautiful." There had been very little light pollution in the farm country where Sandy Jareau had raised her family. But she'd been a homebody, and never taken advantage of the night sky.

"Reminds me of some very early mornings on the farm. But I don't think I've ever quite seen the Milky Way like this. Thank you, Spencer." Charles laid a hand on his son-in-law's shoulder.

"It's amazing, isn't it? As many times as I've seen it, it never ceases to take my breath away. Did you know that some of that light is six billion years old….." He proceeded on a virtual soliloquy of the age of the universe, and the wonder of it being observed by humans, ending with, "It makes everything on earth seem so small."

Charles heard him. "Especially our problems."

Reid nodded. "Mom knew. I didn't realize it at the time, but, before she died, she wrote me a letter. And it basically told me to put everything in perspective, to take hold of my life and live it. I never thought I could actually do that, but….well, if asking you for JJ's hand wasn't an example of that, I don't know what is."

They all laughed, before Reid continued. "She gave me more advice. She said I should ' _Be engaged with life. Read the great stories. Gaze upon fine art. Listen to beautiful music. Explore the night sky_.' Now, I can't help but wonder if some of that wasn't meant for my father as well."

"It sounds like your mother was a very wise woman, Spencer. In spite of everything."

Reid nodded. "That, she was. _Because_ of everything."

It was Charles' turn to nod. "So, does that mean you've decided? Will you keep in touch with your father?" He kept his voice low, so the children wouldn't hear the exchange over their own 'oohs' and 'ahhs'.

Reid gave an indeterminate nod. "We'll see. I can't take a chance with the kids, so if he wavers, we're done. But, for now…..he'll plan a visit during the summer, when Henry is out of school. They want to play baseball together."

Charles studied his son-in-law. "Okay, so that's how Henry feels. What about his father?"

Reid was grateful for Charles ignoring the biological disconnect between himself and Henry. "I don't know. I guess it's a thing with fathers and sons. Henry's baggage is all about Will. Mine is about my dad. It will take me a while to unpack it, I think."

"But you're willing to begin the process?"

"I'm willing to acknowledge that it's a process, and yes, I'm willing to give it a go. He can't hurt me now, and I'll make sure he doesn't hurt the kids."

"That doesn't sound like you're all that engaged, Spencer."

"I'm cautiously engaged. Really, Charles…..Dad….I'm trying." For the first time since he'd become a part of the Jareau family, Reid wondered what it might be like to have _two_ fathers.

"But not hoping?"

"He's disappointed me enough. I'd have to be a fool not to enter into this with my eyes wide open."

Charles nodded, acknowledging the wisdom in Reid's approach.

"He and I had a few minutes together at dinner the other night. For what it's worth, Spencer…..I had the sense that he is enormously grateful for your willingness to try. He commented several times that he'd never expected to have another chance at being part of a family. He was pretty much resigned to a life alone."

From long habit, Charles' recounting of his conversation with William began to summon a familiar cloud of resentment in Reid.

_It was his own fault he didn't have a family. Don't feel sorry for him._

The words almost escaped Reid's mouth. But then….Charles' final quote from William began to resonate in the young genius. _'He was pretty much resigned to a life alone._ ' They were words that Reid had said to himself, time and time again, usually when he was trying to convince himself that it didn't matter. That he was used to being alone, that he could do it for a lifetime. They were a part of his not-so-distant past, and hearing them brought him back to that prior time.

He'd already loved JJ and Henry then, but he hadn't dared hope. Hadn't felt deserving. Hadn't taken the chance to tell them. Ironically, it had been a not-so-gentle push from his mother, in her final letter to him, that had given him the courage to make that life more than a wishful dream. He remembered the loneliness before, and the fulfillment after. His life was _very_ full now. Maybe he could afford to be generous.

Reid thought back to those words from his mother once again. ' _Life is meant to be lived in relationship….it's the whole, the only, point._ ' Maybe she meant them for his father as well. Maybe she meant it for both of the men in her life, in reference to each other.

_Okay, Mom. If you say so. You steered me right once…..for which I will be forever grateful. I'll try it again. For you. Maybe for him. Definitely for me._

The desert was chilly at night, and they wouldn't be able to stay much longer. Reid spent a final few moments huddled with his family on their blanket. Surrounded by the wild, unrestrained beauty of the universe, he held his mother's memory in his mind and heart, and everyone else he loved in his arms.

Rosie reached up a tiny hand to brush her father's cheek.

"Daddy crying?"

He smiled at her. "Daddy's not crying, Baby Girl. He's just overflowing."

FINIS

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End file.
